


Serendipity

by omi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omi/pseuds/omi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Stiles wants to do is get to the beach house, have his conference call and then start his vacation. Preferably by ordering a pizza and slipping into the jacuzzi Lydia said was in the master bath. His car, however, had different plans. Like stalling in the middle of no where right after his phone died. Luckily for him, Derek will be passing by soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd. This story is AU. Yes I'm changing locations. I've changed who knows who, who lived where and who died and didn't die. This takes place when they're all a little older. Thanks for reading!

The beach house wasn't far now. Faded yellow lines, dulled from years of assault by the sea air, led the way down the old two lane highway. Pine trees lined up like soldiers along the road edge, these to keep out the sound and separate the towns from one to this. All of this made for such tranquil surroundings under a sky so blue that only the fluffiest clouds were allowed to cross it.

Stiles' black BMW wasn't the top of the line anymore, but it was when he bought it. The engine hummed with quiet ease as he cruised along at a moderate speed. The air rushing in the open windows and the open sunroof was cool as it blew from the water, making it just chilly enough to require his jacket.

It was the perfect summer day for driving. That was, until a lurch of his faithful car made Stiles nervously tighten his fingers around the leather steering wheel.

"Just a little longer…" he pleaded as he glanced down at the speedometer, which was settled around 60 mph. But when his wide brown eyes lifted to the bonnet of the car, waves of heat rose up like a desert mirage from under the hood. It reminded him of his old jeep.

Stiles' fingers tightened on the leather steering wheel. He needed the car to keep running for a little longer. Pushing 60mph, he could still see the waves of heat that rose from his hood.

Wind whipping around, he could smell the salty scent of the ocean in the air, but that didn't offer any reassurance that his destination was any nearer. The smell of burning metal made his uncomfortable; the intense heat he felt at his feet was unsettling.

Frustrated he jiggled the cell phone adapter, proving it was broken, pulled it out and threw it to the floor.

Banging his hand on the wheel Stiles should have stopped for dinner back at that little diner in the last town. He could have charged his now dead cell phone. "No, no, no. This cannot be happening."

Stiles had been ordered to take a week off. His boss had made the arrangements for Stiles' research to be taken care of and with the exception of one last telephone conference scheduled in an hour, he was almost free. And Stiles needed to take the call.

Then he could relax.

The mocking orange light that had switched had been on before. His mechanic had said not to worry, but the stop for gas and an extra tightening of the gas cap that was recommended failed to resolve anything. Smelling slightly of gas, he'd gotten back into the car and continued onwards.

The whine of the engine startled him as the car started to wind down. He had enough momentum to pull to the side of the road before it stalled completely. His car crept a few inches more, before Stiles put it into park. He banged his head on the wheel while thick white smoke started to pour out from underneath the hood.

"Go take a relaxing vacation, Stiles. Get away from the city, Stiles." he mocked the argument his boss has used. Grumbling he got out of the car. The air was stifling now that he wasn't moving; the summer sun beat down on his persistently. Sweltering in tweed; he shrugged off his jacket and threw it back into the car with his lab coat.

Stiles clenched his fist and slammed the door hard. "AHH! Stupid car!"

With a huge wind-up he kicked the tire. Tears came to his eyes as pain shot up his toe. Looking down his, his heart sank at the scuff on his Salvatore Ferragamo Oxfords he had just purchased last week at Lydia's insistence. Limping, he made his way to the front of the car, stomping his other foot because he forgot to unlatch the hood. Stiles turned back to the door leaned in through the window to release the hood latch.

With a roll of his eyes he went back around to the hood; put his fingers under to release the latch, burning his fingers in the process.

Stiles stood motionless, watching the steam trickle up from the engine in. His foot and hand throbbed; he could feel the start of sunburn on his face, and he was alone on the deserted road. He wiped at his face.

A seagull flew overhead and screamed, causing his to shiver despite the heat. Inhaling to compose himself, Stiles scanned tall pine trees that now loomed oppressively. The narrow grass path from the street to the edge of the forest was unusually clean, no doubt thanks to the small amount of traffic that passed.

Wiping the sweat that had gathered on his forehead back, he went to the driver's side door, leaned through the window to pop the trunk. There was a medical kit that he kept. Hearing the latch release, he limped around.

Setting the canvas kit on his luggage, Stiles searched for burn ointment inside. Though his fingers throbbed, the redness wasn't that bad. Finding the bottle he pulled and met resistance. Giving another good tug, the bottle flew up, slipped out of his grip only to roll to the back of the trunk.

Stiles closed his eyes and clenched his good fist, taking a few breaths. Reaching inside to get the bottle, he had to kneel on the bumper to grab it. He had it in his grasp as he heard the roar of an engine.

People!

Excited Stiles moved his knee, slipped and knocked the breath out of his as he hugged the trunk ledge. Pushing himself up he realized that if he didn't get out of the trunk faster they might continue right past his. Shifting his knee on the bumper to get more leverage, he pulled himself out of the trunk.

"Are you okay?" A male voice asked.

Startled Stiles pushed completely up, cracking his head on the trunk lid in the process. Twisting around, he slid to the ground, landing on his injured foot, which gave out completely. Painfully landing on his rear, Stiles finally looked up from the ground to see a tall man sitting on a motorcycle behind his car, the only visible part of his face were his eyes.

The bastard was laughing.

He was down; Stiles decided it was best to stay that way. Looking over the man on the silver crotch rocket, his eyes narrowing at the brand, Kawasaki Ninja. Scoffing, he glanced upwards, a big boy's toy.

The creek of leather had his eyes sliding over his helmet clad lean body as he kicked the stand and swung a long leg over, getting off of the bike. Stiles' mouth went dry as he crossed the space between them and crouched in front of his. He could smell sweat, oil and a hint of something earthy wafting off of him with a slight breeze.

"Hey are you okay?" A fingerless gloved hand reached out to his, the digits callused. A working man's hands he noted. He heard a click and his head rose to meet blue that glared at him through the gap in the helmet.

Tension radiated from his body at that question. "I'm fine, thank you." Stiles' mouth opened and he couldn't stop the words from snapping out.

He tilted his head and let his obvious lie slid. His hands came down, clasping Stiles' wrists and pulled him upwards in an effortless display of strength.

Unexpectedly Stiles found himself closer than he would have liked to the man in front of him. His eyes opened wider when he began to shift his body back, pressing it up against the now closed trunk. It had been too long since anyone had shown him this kind of consideration.

His brow wrinkled in confusion, seeing his first aid kit in his hands. Stiles had to give him credit, as smoothly as he moved he was quick and adept. His tall intruder placed the kit next to his and turned back to his bike.

His back was as lean as his front, the jacket form fitting, running down over a muscular butt. Stiles watched as he grabbed something from his saddle bags.

"Drink this while I bandage you alright?" Stiles' eyes focused on the old fashioned soda bottle being help out to his. The orange fizz slid down his throat and cooled its way down to his belly as the man in front of his knelt to inspect his ankle, creating a contrasting heat.

His eyes started to sting as he looked up into the brilliant blue sky. A soft pressure on his thigh roused his attention to the man between his legs once more. His jet black helmet gleamed under the sunlight.

"I think I'm in shock." Stiles stated before taking another swig of the soda, the sugar already working it's magic on his body. "You're good at this."

Stiles looked down; his face was still covered by a turtle neck he wore under the helmet. He couldn't tell how old he was, but he could tell he was extremely fit.

The man stood and leaned his hip on the trunk, at enough of a distance that Stiles wanted to pull him slightly closer, "I've seen shock enough to know how to handle it. How are you feeling now?"

"I'd be better if you could fix my car. I have an important telephone call to make and I'm running out of time." The world seemed to snap back into order as Stiles slid off his trunk, ungraceful as always.

"Now it so happens that I might be able to help. What seems to be the problem?"

Stiles watched as he unzipped his motorcycle jacket to reveal a mechanic's uniform underneath, with its arms tied around his waist. His mouth went dry as he shrugged off the jacket and revealed lean muscular arms. Nonchalantly laying the clothing on his trunk he stalked to the front of his car while Stiles watched the play of his jeans against his butt.

Not wanting to get caught ogling a stranger, Stiles grabbed at his shoes, and threw them into the trunk. He opened his suitcase and pulled out a pair of thong sandals. He slipped them on before following the man on his way around front. "The engine light was on before everything stopped."

The smoke that had been rising from the car was long gone now, the engine already cooling down. Stiles watched as long fingers checked valves and poked at hoses, fingers becoming grimier as he did this.

"Do you have any water?" Blue eyes focused on his after a few moments, "It looks like you have no antifreeze. If you have some water, it should get you safely into town for your phone call. Then you can take it to a mechanic as soon as you can."

Stiles' cheeks hurt from the smile that statement had caused. Happy that things seemed to be getting better; he went back inside his car and grabbed a few bottles out of the brand new case of water he'd brought along with him.

Stiles' returned to the front of the car to see nimble fingers prying off a cap. "Water." The man held his hand out to his without looking.

Stiles placed the bottle in his hand, "How will the patient be Doctor?"

"He's good for now, but I think he'll need more work by tomorrow, nurse."

His car quickly guzzled four bottles of water before the doctor declared it was enough. "There we go, we'll have to check on his tomorrow." Wiping the grease off onto his pants, Stiles' Good Samaritan then shut the hood and looked over at his once more.

"Go start her up."

Stiles slid behind the wheel and felt tears prickle as his car started and no smoke appeared.

Staring at him thought the windshield; he was struck by the sheer magnetism of the man.

"Well nurse, shouldn't you be written up for your blatant disregard of your uniform?"

Skin hot from the comment he blurted out the first thing that sprang to his mind. "Pervert!" All he could imagine now was him in one of the Halloween nurse dresses with a huge clipboard. It wasn't pretty. "I'm a research Doctor actually, not a nurse." Stiles unclipped his badge from his shirt and threw it on the seat next to him.

The stranger's laughter was like warm chocolate, sliding down his spin as he passed, his hand patting his shoulder burned hotter than the sun had already burnt his face. He shivered as he turned to watch him walking back to his bike, grabbing his jacket in the process.

Stiles shivered. He hadn't even taken off the mask he wore over the lower half of his face under the helmet and there he was calling him a pervert. Feeling slightly ashamed he got out of the car and followed him, watched as he swung a long leg over and settled onto the bike, its heavy frame balanced underneath his control.

"I'm sorry. Thank you very much for helping me." Stiles held his hand out.

He waved his hands at his, they were still slightly greasy, and "Will you be staying in town for the weekend?"

"Ah, yes, at a friend's house." Stiles lowered his hand and clasped it with his other.

He cocked his head and dug into the jacket he'd put back on. "There you go, bring your car to the shop tomorrow and we'll take a better look at it for you."

Stiles took the business card that he held out to his and glanced at the name, Derek Hale. "Thank you Mr. Hale for all your help. I better be going."

"Call me Derek, Mr. Hale was my father." His head inclined towards hiss. "And you are?"

"Oh! Stiles," he said, "Stiles Stalinski."

"Well it was nice to meet you Stiles," Derek drew out his name as he started up his bike.

With a wave and a smile, Stiles hurried to get back into his, watching Derek drive off down the road. Shaking his head slightly he pulled back on to the road and continued his way to the house.

Inhaling more of the air off the ocean as Stiles biked down the beach road to Derek's mechanic shop where he had dropped his car off as soon as the shop had opened this morning. He hadn't been there, but he had apparently left a message about him dropping off his car. It had been a while since someone had been so genuinely nice and helpful.

A surly blond pretty boy had grabbed at his keys while another with a bit of an island look pushed the first for being rude to a customer. Then Danny, as he had introduced himself, promised that they would take extra care of his car. He'd even helped him pull out the bike Stiles had found in the house out from the trunk of the car for him.

Stiles had been lazing on the outside porch getting caught up with his comics when he got the call that his car was ready. It was a good thing; he hadn't been able to buy anymore food for the house then what he found there. Breakfast and lunch hadn't been very appealing and Stiles was looking forward to picking up something good at the grocery.

Pulling up to the garage, Stiles laid his bike against the wall and walked in. There was no one at the front desk but the door that lead his into the back open. Stiles peeked around, his mouth when dry when he saw Derek working on another motorcycle.

He was wearing a snug black wife beater t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. He could see the separate muscles in his back move as he continued to tug on the machine in front of him. The slight sheen of sweat mixed with a glob of grease that had somehow found its way on the back of his neck.

Stiles had to swallow twice before he was able to moisten it.

"Like what you see?" Derek's low timbers echoed in the small space.

Too Stiles' horror he saw that his image reflected off the cycle's mirrors. Blood rushed to his cheeks. He'd seen his staring. At least Derek hadn't taken offence and beat the hell out of him for looking. Glaring was alright.

"Your bill is in the other room. It was only a hose, so it was an easy fix. Give me a few more minuets and I'll be able to check you out properly." He continued to look at his, his blue eyes filling the mirror.

Stiles clutched his fingers together as his face went hotter at his innuendo. "I want to apologize for my rudeness yesterday. It was uncalled for. Thank you very much for helping me."

Derek grunted, "It wasn't a problem."

Stiles felt his mouth twitch. The man had a little of a sour attitude.

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" The thought was barely considered before the words slipped through his lips before he could stop them. "As a thank you, I mean." Stiles was sure that his face couldn't get any redder than it was currently.

Derek's glare disappeared from the mirror as his attention went back to the bike for a moment, giving it one more yank before laying a wrench to the side. Standing up he started whipping at his arms with a rag to get the grease and sweat off.

The silence that filled the room made Stiles' stomach cramp with nerves. He usually wasn't so forthcoming. He hadn't even seen his full face yet and he was practically throwing himself at the man. There was something about him that drew him in. It must be animal magnetism or something.

He was an idiot. Why would this god of a man want to have dinner with him? It was clear he'd been checking him out. Stiles opened his mouth to retract his statement.

"I prefer meat over pasta." Derek said, back still to Stiles.

Stiles stood there with his mouth open before shaking himself slightly and grinning widely. He clenched his hand and gave himself a small fist pump. He coughed and turned to glance out the door to make sure no one had seen what he'd just done.

Satisfied that they were alone he turned back to Derek and found himself looking at a wall full of chest. Stiles glanced up and he twitched as he got his first good look at Derek's face.

The man knew how to wear scruff that much was clear. With all his features combined, there was no doubt this man was gorgeous. Stiles internally snickered at the old cartoon slogan; with all these powers combined I am captain planet!

"Right, we could have a barbecue. I'm sure there's one at the house I'm renting for the week." Stiles prayed there was. A bbq and some nice cold drinks, like the one with alcohol that he could use right now.

Derek nodded and physically turned Stiles around, a hand going low on his back, guiding Stiles out towards the front desk. Heat prickled from the low touch. Stiles wasn't' used to be manhandled, but he'd let Derek manhandle him any day.

"Let's settle the bill first."

"Yes," Stiles echoed, "settling the bill sounds good." Stiles was pushed around to the front of the front desk. He briefly noted how clean it was, something to be proud of in a place where it could easily get messy.

Staring down at the desk was his down fall. He felt himself being turned and then set up on the desk. Stiles' eyes widened as he found himself being cornered by every direction. There were thick muscular arms on each side of him, Derek's lean body between knees that opened automatically. "Traitors!" He scolded them in his head.

He licked his lips, "About the bill?" Derek's face was so close, he wanted to lick that jaw line, maybe nibble on his throat a little.

"It was just a hose, the dinner will cover that. However," Derek paused, pulling Stiles flush against his body. "There is the matter of tax."

"Tax? Yes! Taxes. I can understand laws to be followed. Taxes to be paid," Stiles felt like he was seventeen again and babbling over Lydia. She said it'd been embarrassing, but once he'd gotten over her, they'd become good friends.

Suddenly Stiles was incapable of speech. There were hard lips on his and a hot tongue that invaded his open mouth. All Stiles could do was grip at Derek and try to follow his lead. He was like a little puppy wiggly to get closer in a good cuddle. He followed the tongue in his mouth as he licked everywhere. Who cared about breathing?

Derek pulled back and bit softly on Stiles' lower lip, and then kissed his swollen lips in smacking succession before stopping all together.

Stiles, his eyes still closed sighed happily. It was like Derek owned his mouth.

A loud shout came from the back, "DEREK! We need to talk!"

Stiles was pulled off the counter and carefully slid down Derek's body until his feet were on the floor again.

"Text me your address," Derek said with a sigh as he wrote out a number on the back of a napkin. He tucked it into Stiles' jeans before pushing keys into his hands and pushing him towards the door. Stiles turned back briefly to see Jackson, the angry boy from earlier almost rip the back door of the shop off its hinges.

"DEREK!"

"I'll see you tonight." Derek closed the door on Stiles.

Had Derek just growled at Jackson a moment ago? Stiles didn't want to be in that kid's place. He walked to his car and slid in. He had dinner to prepare tonight.


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner time at Stiles' humble vacation abode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure if I'm finished with this fic. It started out as a writing exercise for me.

Stiles found the bbq covered and locked up next leaning against the back porch. After uncovering it, he discovered that the grilling machine was fully stocked and ready to go. He whistled, it had a burned also. This was one fancy meat cooker.

The beach house was isolated in a way that made Stiles feel like he'd fallen off the edge of the world. The sort of alone that he thought was how Elizabeth Swan lived like in the end of the one Pirates movie, where she lives on that cliff by the sea waiting for Will to come home. Stiles closed his eyes and shook his head, he did NOT just compare himself to a woman.

Grabbing a green pepper, he placed it on the cutting board. For a rental, the beach house was well stocked with appliances. He even had a bread maker that he thought he might give a try later in the week. Using a nicely sharpened knife, Stiles began chopping the pepper into chunks.

There were other things about this beach house that he'd have to try, not just the bbq. There was a hammock on the side porch that Stiles knew if he laid in it right, he'd be able to look out to the ocean. The land the house was on had its own private beach, just down past the small field of seagrass. He was lucky that Lydia's family had other obligations and she let him borrow it.

More like made him borrow it. She'd somehow convinced their boss that he needed to get away and between the both of them, well- here he was. Out from behind the glass doors of his research lab. Yes, his, no matter if Lydia was the one he had to answer to.

Stiles started assembling the skewers. So maybe Lydia had been right and he needed to get away. Lydia was usually right, but that didn't mean that he was as pathetic as she thought he was. He had friends! He had some romantic interests, sure not in a while, but that's okay. Everyone goes through a cold streak.

And let's face it, cold streak was so over. Hello Derek.

The roar of a motorcycle engine broke through his musings. Wrapping the kebabs in foil with some butter, Stiles wiped his hands off and went to the front door to wait for his guest.

The summer sun glinted off the sleep black and chrome figure that made its way down the secluded driveway. Stiles leaned against the door, Derek was a very handsome man. What the hell was Stiles thinking? Men like that didn't want him. Maybe he had a horrible personality or something. He wrinkled his nose at the thought.

The bike came to a stop right by the porch and Stiles' mouth went dry. He wanted. Plain and simple. And by strange twist of fate, this man in front of him wanted him back. So Stiles was going to take whatever he could get, bad personality or breath be damned. Maybe this would only last a night. Stiles hoped not, but hey maybe getting laid on vacation would appease Lydia's sense of getting a life.

Derek's boots echoed loudly against the sea dried wood steps. Stiles couldn't stop his eyes from sliding up the long, lean length of Derek's' muscular legs, covered in worn, but well cared for jeans. A simple black cotton t-shirt under a black leather jacket covered his massive chest that made Stiles want to cuddle. Or do wash off of. A sort of small smile played on Derek's lips while his eyes were hidden behind black sunglasses. Stiles sensed a theme.

"So what's in the bag?" He asked, gesturing to the black saddle bag Derek had taken off the bike and brought with him.

Derek arched an eye, "No hello? Welcome to my vacation house, drinks are in the fridge."

Stiles ducked his head as his hand reached out to touch the zipper of Derek's jacket. "Sorry, sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my manners. Welcome, please come in." He tugged gently on the cool leather between his fingers.

Derek stepped forward, crowding into Stiles' space. Stiles stepped back, hitting the door while Derek continued to press in further.

Stiles swallowed, "Hi." He tried again.

Derek smiled before dropped a quick kiss. "Better, now I feel like you want me here."

"I do want you!" The words slipped out before Stiles could stop himself. "Here, yes. I do want you here."

Derek knocked the bag against Stiles leg, "I brought some desert."

"Right!" Stiles smiled wide, "Dinner! I bet you're probably hungry. Lets go put the meat on the grill." Sliding out from between Derek and the door, he walked into the house, leading Derek to the kitchen. Stiles walked around the island block, he picked up the other plate with the foiled veggie kebabs. With his other hand grabbing the meat sitting on a plate with sea salt on top. Another lesson on grilling learned from his father. Meat, good cuts, didn't need fancy marinade. Sea salt and lemon. Maybe some pepper or a dash of A1 after it was cooked, but that was it.

Behind him the refrigerator opened and Stiles heard the crinkle of a bag and the clink of a bottle being put into it. It was closed when he turned to try and get a glimpse. Rolling his eyes at the smirk on Derek's face he tilted his head towards the back door. "Follow me."

Stiles could honestly say he'd never had a more romantic dinner than this one, sitting on the back porch with Derek as the sun went down. The house came stocked with lanterns filled with citronella, so Stiles had brought a few of them out to be lit. The food had turned out great and if they could get past the awkward silence, Stiles was sure this would go down as the best date ever.

He watched with a smile as Derek dug into his steak. It was thick, juicy and a little on the rare side. Stiles gave himself a mental fist pump when he saw that Derek liked it. Wow a man with food and they'll come back for more!

He'd managed to keep his usual babble to a minimum while cooking. He knew that his mouth could drive others away and he really didn't want to drive Derek away.

Warm flesh covered his left hand. Stiles looked to find that he'd been shredding his napkin and Derek had reached across the table and slid his hand over Stiles.

"Nervous?" Derek's eyes seemed to look straight through him.

"A little I guess. This is all so strange, I don't, "Stiles looked away, out towards the ocean, "I don't usually have such. I mean. You are way out of my league."

The hand around Stiles' tightened briefly, "Their loss, my gain. Maybe you don't get such direct responses to your very blatant eyeing." Derek smirked. "I mean I feel positively naked almost anytime you've looked at me since we've met." Derek pulled his fingers back to cut his steak, his lips twisting a bit. "Usually I scare people."

Smiling as he picked up his cutlery to continuing eating, "Really? Nah, you seem like a big teddy bear."

"Would you prefer I shoved you around a bit?"

Derek bit down on his fork a bit...wolfishly in Stiles' opinion. "Perhaps, under the right circumstances...that wouldn't be so bad."

The silence that came after was comfortable, broken by the sound of the waves breaking on the beach and the occasional scrap of fork and knife on the plates. Meanwhile Stiles pretends not to catch the occasional moment when Derek stops eating to silently appraise Stiles. It continues until both of the men have pushed their plates forward a little and the food is gone.

"That was very good. Thank you." Derek said.

Stiles preened, "You're welcome. I did a lot of cooking growing up." Though he was smiling, Stiles couldn't help but feel a bit melancholy at that admission.

"I did too after a while, but I can honestly say that my talents for cooking, well I can heat up a can of soup. And I can make a mean grilled cheese, but that's about it," Derek said with a charming smile.

"No adoring men or women beating your door down to make you a home cooked meal? What about your mom? My mother always made the best tuna casserole. I make it whenever I'm feeling a bit homesick." Stiles relaxed into the chair, slouching a bit. Missing the way Derek tensed at his question.

He didn't miss the answer though.

"No. It's a part of the reason most people in this town are scared of me. Of the poor Hale orphan, whose entire family died in a fire."

It looked as if all light had died inside of Derek having made that admission.

Stiles made sure that Derek was looking at him before he spoke, "I'm sorry to hear that. My parents are both dead, taken by the same disease in very different ways. They're the reason I got into medical research."

No pity. Understanding was what Stiles offered.

Derek nodded and then drank the last of his water.

"Want to take a walk before desert?"

"Sure."

Stiles rose and grabbed some plates, flashing a huge smile, "Let me go take this in first. Just sit and relax."

In no time, Stiles had the dishes soaking in the sink and came out onto the porch to stand next to Derek, who was leaning against the porch railing. "You ready?"

The look that Derek gave had Stiles shivering in the warm night. "Yes."

Stiles shook his head, "Nah, you're not."

"What do you mean?"

Stiles pointed to the boots that Derek still wore, "You gotta take off your boots before we go. Who walks on the beach in boots, seriously!"

Derek sat on the porch steps and took off his boots and socks.

Stiles stood on the bottom of the steps, waiting. "Black eh? Noticed a theme."

Derek rolled his eyes and reached his hand out, hooking a finger in the front loop of Stiles' jean pants and pulled him up the steps so he stood between Derek's knees, towering over him. Sort of. Stiles wasn't short, it was just that Derek was taller.

"Hi," stammered Stiles.

Derek captured Stiles' wrist and brought his hand to Derek's mouth, "I really hope I'm not reading this all wrong." He placed a kiss on the the underside of Stiles' wrist.

It was like electric shot up his arm from Derek's' mouth. Was this man for real? Of course he wasn't reading anything wrong. Stiles would be whatever kind of book Derek wanted to read, he'd be the whole library if he needed. Derek wouldn't even need a library card.

Stiles shut his eyes after Derek started laughing, "I said that all out loud didn't I? Man I haven't done in years." He felt a warm arm wrap itself around his waist, pulling and lifting until he was situated on Derek's lap, his legs awkwardly laying on the porch behind them. They weren't groin to groin... yet.

Something warm brushed at the underside of Stiles' jaw. Then skin moved on skin and he realized it'd been Derek's nose as Derek buried his head in the curve of Stiles' neck, one hand still trapped in Derek's grasp, the other flailing around.

"Relax."

Stiles breathed deeply, inhaling the very pleasant scent of Derek, leather, oil and some spicy cologne. Slowly bringing himself under control Stiles wrapped his free arm around Derek's shoulders, his hand resting on the back of Derek's neck.

"You've been so tense tonight. I know it's because of me and I'm sorry," Derek's voice was muffled against Stiles' neck, the scruff along his jawline scratched the tender skin there.

Stiles knew he'd been a bit of a spaz all night, thinking about Derek and how this whole situation wasn't possible. He just didn't realize how it might affect the other man.

"I just, you were so blatant on the side of the road. It was funny and then you just kept talking. I have issues in my past that don't make this easy for me, but there's something about you Stiles, that isn't your real name, Stalinski that just makes me want to hold on to you tight. Or you'll probably trip over your own shoe laces."

Stiles' clutched at the back of Derek's neck, his fingers feeling the brush of short hair, nails digging slightly into the skin, but not enough to break it. He felt ashamed. Here was this man and all Stiles had done was think of him as a piece of meat, but he wasn't. Stiles knew that. Here was that man who offered strangers in the rain a ride. Who got kitties out of trees . Okay, maybe not, but as Stiles gripped Derek a bit harder, he realized he'd been just a bit horrible. He couldn't deny what he'd done and what Derek hadn't in return.

"I can't wait to get to know you better," Stiles said, pulling back and looking Derek in the eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU! Stiles is a lonely research Doctor who needs a vacation. Derek is a small time mechanic with a pension for fast bikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! I've found the plot! :D I'll be going back and forth between this story and Going Native. But...PLOT! I hope you enjoy!

The side porch hammock was one of the most comfortable places that Stiles had ever laid. It might have had something to do with the fact that it made him curl into Derek and vise versa. Stiles' inability to keep still had led him to hooking his leg over the edge, swinging it gentle, the movement rocking them both. His other leg rested on Derek's.

"Do you think this is all happening too fast?" Stiles turned his face out from the crook of Derek's arm to look up to his face. In the fading twilight, with only the flickering citronella candles to see by, Stiles thought Derek looked older somehow. His face scrunched, not that he knew how old Derek was. More things to find out.

Stiles lay in silence while Derek thought, kicking his foot, liking the way the wind ran through his toes. The question was important, so it's nice that Derek took the time to think about the answer.

"No," Derek said quietly.

Stiles dug his nose briefly into Derek's cotton shirt, smelling detergent, motor oil and some spicy scent. "Well that was short and sweet. Care to elaborate?"

"How long have we known each other?" Derek asked, his fingers running down Stiles' arm where it lay across Derek's stomach.

Humming before answers, Stiles said, "A little over 24 hours I guess."

"I've seen people and had friends even who knew someone for less than 15 min before having sex in some seedy clubs or bars. In a little over 24 hours, what have we done? We've kissed a few times. I've groped you a little."

"Definitely no complaint coming from me about that," Stiles interjected.

"So what about this do you think is too fast?"

Stiles closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his thoughts into some coherent thought. "It's the closeness. The way I'm okay with being here with you, like this. Feeling safe somehow. Cuddling! "

He heard a rumbling coming from Derek's chest, amplified by the fact that Stiles had his ear on it. It took him a minute to realize that Derek was laughing. He swatted at him. "No laughing at me!"

"No, I'm not laughing at you, I swear," Derek said.

But Stiles could hear the smugness in his voice. "That's so not attractive."

Derek grabbed at Stiles' hand and tugged until Stiles let him bring it to his mouth, "You're attracted to me, don't lie."

"Nope, not attracted. In fact I need to get up now." Stiles said mockingly.

Derek kissed the tender skin on the underside of Stiles wrist. "And now?"

"No, I'm sorry. Going to have to ask you to unhand me."

Derek pressed a kiss in the palm of Stiles' hand and whispered, "But you have me in the palm of your hand, are you really going to just, toss me out?"

Stiles buried his face into Derek's chest, his mouth twitching against his will at the complete corniness going on, "Hhmm I could use a cabana boy this week."

"Boy?"

Stiles laughed at the mock outrage. "I hope you brought your Speedo, that's going to be the official uniform." He started to laugh at Derek's choked sputtering at that comment.

A crack of light had Stiles jumping wildly, his heart pounding. "What the hell was that?" He twisted and found at this point, he'd entwined himself completely with Derek.

A rumble of air and a huge gust of wind blew.

"Looks like there's a storm coming," Derek said, sitting up in the hammock and pulled Stiles up with him. "I better get going; I don't want to be caught in it." Pushing a bit at Stiles until he was up and out of the hammock, Derek held on to Stiles' waist, "You might have to light some candles. I'm not sure how the power is out here."

Stiles leaned back," Don't go." He was glad he was facing away from Derek. "Stay here tonight. I'm not, "he swallowed, "I'm not saying anything is going to happen. Just..." He smiled as Derek's hands wrapped around his waist and held him tight. "Yeah, just stay with me longer. Don't go."

"Let me put the cover on my bike. You should bring the hammock in," Derek said, laying a kiss on Stiles' neck. "I'll stay, but I'm not wearing the uniform. Ever."

Laughing as Derek let go, Stiles turned to watch him walk around the porch to the front. Barefoot, with a long stride, He couldn't wait until he was able to smack that ass.

Another bang of thunder made Stiles jump and get to unhooking the hammock. He wrapped one end around himself like a toga as he unhooked the other side. The chain hook that held it on was a little rusted as he tried to unscrew the latch.

So focused on the task at hand, he never heard Derek come up behind him. "Oh look, a present just for me."

Stiles turned his head and suddenly found himself thrust up against the porch post, heart thudding fast in his chest.

Derek bent down leaned his forehead on Stiles', "Calm down it's just me."

His body listened automatically, heart rate slowing as he settled in Derek's arms. Stiles looked into Derek's eyes just as a flash of lightening struck, he could have sworn that Derek's eyes flashed red for a moment.

"Come on, let's get inside and find the flashlights candles before the storm gets here," Derek reached up and unlatched the hammock with ease.

"Show off!" Stiles unwound the hammock from around him and dropped it into Derek's arms, "follow me cabana boy!" He turned and threw his chin up, walking smoothly into the house, Derek following with a low chuckle.

A brief look in the kitchen provided flashlights, tea candles and one hurricane lantern with oil in it. Stiles collected all of it and brought it into the large living room. "I'm just going to leave all this stuff here." Stiles started walking around the room, poking around. There were picture everywhere of what was Lydia's family, a bookcase with a small collection of books, newspapers, a large cabinet in the wall that held the TV.

"Bingo!" Stiles called out, wondering what Derek was doing in the kitchen still.

"Whatcha find?" Derek called back.

"Some board games, cards, things like that." Stiles yelled back. He sat on the floor and started pulling some of it out.

"Ready for a little desert?" Derek asked.

Stiles looked up to find his new cabana boy holding a tray with assorted fruit and a pot of chocolate. Yeah, he could get used to his.

******

His world was soft, warm and just the right amount of dark enough that Stiles resisted waking. Movement was out of the option, he just had to let his bladder in on the secret. Refusing to open his eyes, He listened to the sounds around him instead.

The patterning rain he had fallen asleep too was gone. The fan was running again, Derek had been right, power had gone out. Stiles, ever hopeful, had made sure turn the fan on before getting into bed, just in case the power had decided to come back on. The only other sound he heard was a very soft breathing. He knew it was connected to the arm around his waist and the man at his back. Stiles turned, face first into the pillow and hid his grin.

Derek.

Stiles had been truthful. Nothing had happened last night. They'd eaten their desert, flirted while playing board games and generally had a good time. Derek had beaten the pants off of Stiles at the game of life, but in return Stiles had handed Derek his internal organs while playing scrabble. Derek had complained that Stiles played by a cut throat set of rules, which while he didn't confirm, he didn't deny either. Even

Even after the storm hit its peak and the power had gone off, the night hadn't stopped. Stiles and Derek had curled up on the couch with the rocky road ice cream Stiles had purchased that needed to be eaten or it'd go bad.

He learned that the other mechanics in the Derek's shop weren't' just his employees, they were his family. Derek's family had all tragically died in a fire when he was younger, leaving him, his sister and an uncle as the sole survivors. Then a few years later his sister had been attacked by some kind of wild animal, in the same year that his uncle slipped away from his injuries.

It had left Derek an orphan, with a lot of money. He'd met Jackson through his uncle and the two had gotten close because of their shared history. "Jackson is a cold piece of work, let me tell you. He only cares about a few people, one being Danny. I got Jackson by accident and Danny by consolation," Derek had explained.

He'd started working for the mechanic who had originally owned the shop and years later, Derek owned it while all three of them worked there. "I'm sure they could have gone their own ways, college or something, Dannys always been a wiz at computers. But they both wanted to stay close. We're like a pack you know."

"Somehow I can actually see you sitting around a campfire, drinking beer and howling at the moon." The pack comment tickled Stiles horror movie sense. "Do you turn all furry near the full more Derek? Should I be worried for my safety?"

"Never with me," Derek said perfectly serious, his eyebrows drawing together.

Stiles looked at him and then squealed when Derek pounced all of a sudden, grabbing Stiles and pulling him closer, while Stiles laughed. "My, what big arms you have."

"All the better to hold you." Derek nuzzled Stiles in the neck.

"My, what big eyes you have." Stiles felt the mood change from silly to something else.

Derek tilted his head and fluttered eyes, "All the better to see you."

The long strands tickled Stiles neck. Heat pooled low in Stiles body. Derek radiated heat, but instead of feeling overheated, Stiles wanted to wrap himself around the man and never let go. "My, what a big mouth you have," he whispered, wondering where Derek would take it next." Stiles held his breath in anticipation.

Derek moved his head up towards Stiles' jaw, "All the better to," Derek's tongue darted out and flicked at the corner of Stiles' mouth, "taste you." He dove back down and nipped at Stiles chin. He licked and bit his way to the junction between Stiles' neck and shoulder and all but feasted on the area. With all the biting and sucking and the stubble, Stiles knew he was going to be red and swollen tomorrow. But as he ran his hand through Derek's surprisingly soft hair, he found he couldn't care less. He'd tightened his grip on Derek and pulled him closer.

Stiles snapped back to the present as he felt his pants start to get a bit tighter. Crap, he thought, must pee first. He didn't want to make it any harder than it had to be, no pun intended. Huffing slightly in irritation that he had to open his eyes and move, he managed to get a few inches away before the arm around his waist pulled him back.

"No," said the owner of said arm, "sleep."

Stiles looked at the bundle of sheet that Derek had over his head, only the tips of hair showing. How the man slept under the covers, Stiles would never know. "I'll be back, just a short trip to the bathroom."

"No." Derek rumbled.

"I haven't wet the bed since I was 5 and I don't plan on doing it now. And if you've got some kind of pee fetish, well we're going to have talk about that, because it does nothing for me." By the end of the sentence, Stiles found himself pushed out of the bed.

"No," was all Derek said.

After quickly finishing his business and brushing his teeth, Derek didn't need to be kissing breath that smelled like road kill. That's a sure fire way to turn a man off. Stiles found him at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom, staring at the man laying face down in it. The top sheet was still pulled over his head, but a foot hung out.

Derek had hairy feet. And he needed to trim his nails a little bit. Stiles looked at his toes and was pleased to see that they were nicely groomed. He'd drag Derek to a nail place soon enough. Lydia had shown his the error of his ways with nail care and ever since the first time this old woman had almost broken his feet in every way possible and yet had left him utterly boneless, he had a standing appointment for monthly pedicures.

"Stop staring at me like a creeper and get into bed with me," Derek said, sleep evident in his voice.

It was all gravely and made Stiles feel a little tingly. Made Stiles want to lift the sheet from the bottom of the bed and crawl up Derek's body, pausing to take the time to appreciate it as he moved upwards. Appreciate it with his mouth and teeth and he wondered how Derek would taste on his tongue. His head spun a bit with the knowledge that he didn't know what sounds Derek would make when he was licking up his thighs before sinking his teeth in his round behind.

Research worth finding out that Stiles wanted to take his time finding out. Instead of indulging, he went to the side of the bed and climbed back into his spot.

Derek reached out and pulled him into the warmth of his almost naked body. His mouth latched onto Stiles neck.

"Ouch! NO! Bad Derek!" Stiles pulled away with a jerk and turned around under the covers so that he was face to face with a very smug face. "You've ruined my neck. I knew that I had sensitive skin, but it honestly looks like I got punched in the neck with the bruising and redness and it just hurts so no more mauling me like I'm your favorite chew toy and you're a puppy too young to understand." Stiles threw his lower lip out, "Your teeth are sharp."

Derek unsuccessful looked proud of getting told this. "I'm not really that sorry," he said.

Stiles mouth opened a little, indignant at being told that.

Taking the opportunity presented to him, Derek closed the gap between their faces and kissed Stiles, sucking the pouting lower lip in. He bit down gently.

Stiles pressed forward with an inhalation of breath, before pulling back sharply, "Vampire," he accused. He watched as Derek's eyes went wide before he started laughing. Not just chucking, but that full belly laugh.

It took a minute or two, but Derek stopped laughing, dampness at the corners of his eyes, "Stiles, please don't ever change, you're just great."

He could do nothing but smile at that, "Thank you." Was Derek real? Stiles ducked his head under Derek's chin, his leg moving between Derek's as he moved closer. He hummed in happiness, full body cuddles. "Do you have anything to do today?"

"It's Sunday." Derek responded.

Stiles shrugged, "Doesn't mean you didn't already have plans."

"On Sundays plans are allowed to change. I think we should spend the day right here."

Stiles contemplated staying under the sheets in this huge bed with Derek all day. The last time he'd stayed in and did nothing and had a companion to do it with was too long ago. Then his body betrayed him. His stomach grumbled.

Derek's answered in return.

Stiles laughed, "I think we have to get up to eat."

"No," Derek said, his mouth moving into a line. Right before his stomach made hungry noises again.

Hugging him tighter, "I make some mean pancakes. And some fruit left over from last night. It shouldn't have gone bad, the fridge had been cool went they'd put the leftovers in."

Derek huffed.

Stiles smiled and pulled the sheet back, watching as Derek disappeared from his view. He continued to pull the sheet off as he untangled himself and got up out of the bed. He soon stood at the bottom of the bed, sheet in hand. "Come on, I'll go put some coffee on. How does that sound?"

Derek rolled onto his back and laced his arms behind his head, "Are you sure you don't want to join me back in the bed?"

Stiles tossed the balled sheets onto Derek's head and started for the kitchen, "Food!"

"Coffee first," Stiles muttered to himself as he bounded down the wooden staircase. For a beach house, it was in good condition, everything was nice and clean. Entering the kitchen, he headed straight for the freezer, where he'd stashed the coffee yesterday.

Humming, Stiles grabbed the pot and filled it with water. His eyes caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a poor reflection of someone standing in the front yard. He put the pot in the maker and walked out towards the living room. Through the window he could see Jackson standing in front yard, completely buck naked.

Stiles paused at the staircase, "Derek, does Jackson have any mental disorders or anything?" He turned to see Derek coming down the stairs, still in his boxers, but with his shirt back on.

"No, why?" Derek said at the bottom of the steps, crowding into Stiles space as he pressed him back into the wall.

"Because he's standing out front naked," eyebrow raised as he pointed to the window.

Derek's head turned so fast it popped with the motion. "Stiles, remember your question last night? Why are we so comfortable with each other?" Derek looked back at Stiles, looming over him, his face tight and serious.

"Yes?"

"There's a reason. I promise I'll explain," Derek leaned forward and kissed Stiles hard and swift. Then he was out the door.

Stiles sagged against the door, his heart racing with a million questions running through his head. What the hell?


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should have been up three days ago, but I only have myself to blame. And the city of Suwon. Hope you enjoy! I also want to thank everyone who's left a review, you are why this story is turning out the way it has. Thank you.

Stiles stared at the closed front door in disbelief. The roar of Derek's bike punctured through the stillness that was left with Derek's exit. Closing his eyes and biting his lip, Stiles shook his head before pounding softly on the wall next to him. With a hug inhalation, Stiles tried to relax his body, "Okay."

Calmly walking back into the kitchen, he placed the coffee on and turned to go get dressed. He was making a mental list. Top of the list was to call Lydia. Checking the time, he knew that he'd have to wait to do that.

Today's events were in par with what had been happening as he brokenly rolled into this seaside town. His world was off kilter. Up was down, forward was back and Stiles admitted to himself that it wasn't boring at least.

Stiles shoved a pair of cargo shorts on and a t-shirt reminiscent of his childhood. He looked into the mirror. He was taller, a little more filled out and his hair was longer, but he still looked just about the same as he did when he was sixteen.  
Unlike when he was younger, Stiles knew what shit to put up with and what shit not too. And he'd play it cool for now, but Derek better have a good explanation. He was determined to get to the bottoms of things. And he was going to do what he did best right now, research. He pulled his laptop bag off the dresser and headed downstairs.

Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, he grabbed a plate and the fruit from last night. Adding some cheese, he laid the plate on the kitchen counter before getting his laptop set up. Luckily the house had wireless, so all Stiles had to do was connect and he was ready to go. Well after he got a cup of coffee first.

Pulling up Google, Stiles started his search with the first name, Derek Hale. Within moments he was scrolling through Derek's auto body's website. It was surprisingly well done. Nice visuals to attract...people. People would find Derek sitting on or riding several different types of motorcycles interesting. While he wore leather. He went to the bottom of the page for the site's information and found a new name, Danny Mahealani.

Stiles pulled out a pen and the legal pad he always kept with his laptop. If there was anything he learned from school was have a paper trail. Note sources, websites, thoughts anything down on paper while researching because if your internet goes bottom up, your computer blue screens or someone else has the book out that you need, you have a back up. Also drop box, but that would be overkill in this case.

He found Jackson's last name on the employee page, Whitmore.

Hale, Whitmore and Mahealani, it was a good start.

40 Minutes later and Stiles leaned back from his screen and stretched his back. Time to call lovely Lydia. He pulled his phone out and pressed her contact number, he loved smart phones. While it rang, Stiles stood and took his plate to the sink.

"Hello Stiles, what do you want? Shouldn't you be sleeping in after playing some online game all night?"

"Lydia, what do you know about Derek Hale?" Normally he wouldn't have been so direct; she would make him pay for this information.

Lydia laughed into the phone in the that perfect way of hers, "I know something about Derek Hale, and Stiles he is so out of your league so don't even bother."

"The leftover fruit that I just finished eating for breakfast 20 minutes ago that had been dipped in chocolate and hand fed to me last night begs to differ."

She inhaled sharply. "Tell me everything," she commanded.

Stiles, knowing that he had the upper hand, for once, used something that he'd picked up from Derek, "No." her savored the feeling; it wasn't unusual that it ever happened. In fact he couldn't remember the last time it had happened.

"What do you want to know?" Lydia knew how to play this game.

"Just start talking," Stiles said, grabbing the legal pad as he walked into the living room. He settled on the couch, ready to take notes.

"That beach house has been in the family for a few generations," Lydia started. "So while we're not considered townies, we've made a few friends with the locals. Now I never knew Derek personally, but everyone knew about the Hales. They were a large family, very routed into the community. Then there was the house fire."

"I read the newspaper reports online," Stiles interrupted, "it was arson, the body of a woman had been found with accelerants splashed on her. They couldn't identify the body."

"It was the talk of the town. No one knew why and there were only three survivors. Derek, his sister Laura. Their uncle, Peter, who was badly burned and died about a year later from complications. Then Laura just disappeared." Lydia's voice went quiet. "I knew her Stiles; I'd seen her out and about in town. I wasn't close to either of them, but afterwards they both seemed changed."

"And then?" Stiles urged Lydia to go on.

"And then it was our first year of college silly," Lydia said.

Stiles put his hand on his forehead and leaned back on the couch. Saying that the first year had been hard was an understatement. He looked over his notes, "so they ever figure out what happened to Laura?"

"Not that I've heard and I'm sure it would have come up at some point during a family dinner." Lydia paused, "Stiles," her voice went higher, with a sweet edge, "Details."

"Um, he may have spent the night last night." Stiles figured he better give her something. Stiles rubbed his chest, for some reason he didn't really want share Derek just yet. Stiles sighed and scratched his head, more questions.

"Stiles! Did you?"

"Do you know who Jackson Whitmore is and why he'd be walking around naked?" Stiles completely ignored her question.

"The name isn't familiar. What are you getting up to in my beach house?"

"I'm going to go now beautiful; I'll keep you updated when more happens." Stiles disconnected before Lydia could get anything else in.

Tossing his cell on the table he rubbed his hands on his head. Maybe he was just overreacting. Maybe it was something simple, maybe Jackson was sleep walking. He hung his head back and tried to relax.

Stiles was just being paranoid. And really he needed to stop it, stop questioning why and find something to do. Stiles hoped that Derek would come back, but even if he didn't, last night proved something. It proved that Stiles had game.

Derek just seemed so serious and Stiles guess with a past like that who could blame him. The newspaper articles had said he'd been a suspect in Laura's disappearance. Derek had said that it was nice to talk to someone personally who wasn't afraid of him. Stiles guessed that though he might have been cleared, the suspicion had never gone away. Why stay then?

Rolling his eyes, he stood and jumped a bit. Time to forget about it for awhile. He was going to do what Lydia had inadvertently suggested, go online and do a little gaming.

Stiles had just entered a dungeon in the game when there was a knock on the door. Cursing his luck, he left the dungeon got up to get the door as the knocking became louder and a bit frantic. "I'm COMING!" He yelled, "Hold your horses. Geez."

Stiles opened the door to see Danny standing there, no shirt on, breathing heavily, like he'd just run a marathon. "What are you doing here?" Stiles mouth opened a bit in confusion. Seriously did Derek's friends just run around either half naked or all naked all the time? Maybe they had something against clothes.

"You need to come with me, it's very important," Danny said with a smile.

Stiles had a feeling that this man rarely was ever told now. He had this aura of honesty and goodness to him. Lucky for Stiles, he wasn't an idiot. "I don't have to do anything. Why do you try again?"

"Derek is taking care of our friend Jackson, remember him?" Danny started.

Stiles nodded and motioned for him to continue. He leaned on the door jam, this should be good.

"Well Jackson has...a condition. And Derek is the only one that can calm him down. He would like you to come with me to go meet up with him. He said it was important. To him. That you come with me." Danny smiled, his breath regularizing out now.

Stiles knew when someone was telling the truth, but lying at the same time. And Danny was doing his best right now. Stiles stood up from the door jam and grabbed the door, "I'm sorry, but I just met Derek so, yeah, thanks but no." He moved to shut the door.

Danny pushed the door open with an amazing strength; Stiles guessed that those abs weren't just for show. He backed up into his house, not liking the way he felt intimidated right now. "You know what? Fuck Derek! Or not, I've only known him a day at best and sure it's been a wonderful day but I don't know you and he has no right to just order me to go with you! And fuck you too; you don't treat people like that. I don't know what I was thinking you people are mental! Not get out of this house before I call the police." Stiles shook as he yelled, but he wasn't going to be treated like this by some Abercrombie and Fitch model.

Danny sprouted furry sideburns, a prominent brow and the scariest set of fangs that Stiles had ever seen in a human mouth, "Come with me NOW!"

Stiles mouth dropped open and his heart started beating like he was on an adderall binge. He wasn't stupid, but none of the lore or games or movies he watched ever prepared him to be right in front of a ticked off werewolf. And he didn't  
think Danny was even really that mad.

A thunk into the door jamb distracted them both; Stiles fell onto the floor as he saw that there was an arrow sticking out of the wood. "What the hell!" He got to his feet and backed further into the house.

Danny pushed into the house and closed the door, chaining it. "Shit, Stiles I can't explain right now, but we need to get out of here." He peeked through the window next to the door. "If we can get out of here and back to where Derek and Jacks are right now we can figure this while mess out.

Another arrow came through the window, this time almost hitting Stiles if Danny hadn't pulled him out of the way at the last moment. "We need to go now!"

"Okay, okay, we can go! Let me just grab," Stiles grabbed his legal pad and his phone from the living room table and then ran into the kitchen, stuffing them and his laptop into his laptop bag. He didn't know what was going on, but he didn't need his stuff being gone through by strangers who were out to shoot him with arrows. Stiles hands twitched werewolves! As much as he tried to wrap his head around it, Stiles felt like he was inside one of his online games. He wondered what stats Danny would have.

Danny pulled him out the back door and down towards the beach. Stiles stumbling along. "Who's shooting arrows at us?"

"Hush, I'll answer your questions later, but for now just keep moving, we need to get to the pier. There are always people are and hopefully that'll stop them for awhile until we can get underground.

Stiles huffed and puffed, running down the clean beach, the ocean to his right and land only broken by the occasional house to his left. It didn't seem as if anyone was following them, but he couldn't take the chance. Danny, if the lore was true, would heal from an arrow wound while Stiles would just be dead.

Danny was behind Stiles, metaphorically nipping at his heels not to stop. The sand was hard to run in, but Stiles found strength in the fact that if he stopped or slowed he'd probably die. As he and Danny ran, people and their umbrellas started to inhabit the beach. They calmed their pace some and tried to look like two men jogging. They didn't seem to be getting much attention.

"Go to the boardwalk," Danny said.

He didn't even sound like he was winded from their run, while Stiles thought his heart was going to burst from his chest. He needed to exercise more often. Vowing to get a treadmill and some kind of weights, Stiles was glad when Danny had them down to a walk.

Panting, Stiles didn't realize that Danny had pulled him into some sort of beach shop until he was in the dressing room putting on the clothes that Danny harps thrust at him. "What are we doing?"

She was looking for two men, one in shorts, no shirt and the other in what you were wearing. Hopefully by changing a little we can blend in enough to get to the Pat's Pizza, my ex is there and he owes me a favor which he's going to repay by letting us borrow his car.

Stiles came out of the changing room looking like he stepped out of jersey shore, minus the tan. He never wore clothing this tight. Throwing his laptop bag into a large backpack they were able to purchase, Stiles and Danny walked out of the shop, shades on ether faces, obscuring them.

"I totally feel like that guy from Burn Notice, have you ever seen that show?" Stiles asked Danny as they moved along the boardwalk. "Though my clothes are nowhere near Miami chic."

"Can you please be quite and just walk, we're almost there," Danny said curtly as he looked around.

Stiles knew that the boardwalk wasn't that populated and that they were still in danger, but he never could help running his mouth when he was nervous. Or in danger, or both.

"You should be more careful who you run with," a voice rang out behind Stiles.

He turned to see a woman with brown hair braided down and an arm guard on her wrists. Their shooter.

"Yes, well. I like running with people who aren't shooting at me." Stiles backed up into Danny. Who grabbed his arm and pulled Stiles onto e back of a security golf cart.

"John said he'll give us a ride the rest of the way," Danny flashed a winning smile at the beach security man at the wheel.

They sped off down the boardwalk, Stiles watched the frowning brown haired woman quickly becoming smaller until she disapeared.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting heated up! Stiles had arrows shot at him, werewolves in his face and he's had just about enough of all of it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thank you to my reviewers and the people who read. I have to send a special thanks to a reader though. I was on the ONTD livejournal comm and saw that one of you had rec'd me to another member. I was floored. Thank you, sincerely. This chapter is for you pikapika217

Stiles hops off the security tram and with a nod and salute to the officer, rent a cop really, he followed Danny into a cozy little pizza shop. A blast of cool air hit him as he walked in the door, his skin breaking out into goose bumps.

Danny headed straight towards the back where a nice looking guy was making pizzas. "Jonathan," he called out.

Grabbing a soda from the cooler, Stiles paid the cashier while he kept an eye on the arguing that seemed to be taking place. Danny seemed all calm and collected, but Jonathan had rapidly lost control the moment Danny had called out to him. He watched as the man's neck flushed, the redness creeping steadily up. He fished something out of his pants pocket and slapped them into Danny's hands.

Danny said something and turned to Stiles with his "I'm just a nice guy" grin still on his face. He waved Stiles closer.

Stiles drank his soda and walked up; mindful of the glare he was getting from the ex. Not that he was anything but amused by it; he could use some lessons from Derek.

"Come on, we're going out the back." Danny nodded to Jonathan, "Thank you."

Stiles stuck his hand out, "Thanks man." His hand lingered in the air for a few seconds, before Stiles just gave up and lowered it. He looked up to Danny and raised his eyebrows.

Danny just smiled wider, "Come on." He turned and walked through a door in the back.

Stiles raised his soda in Jonathan's direction and followed, passing through some kind of prep area and right out into the back. Danny was already down the stairs and unlocking a blue souped-up Honda.

"He was nice," Stiles said as he slid into e passenger seat.

The engine roared and Danny quickly had beast of a car onto the streets. "Jonathan. Great ass, in so many ways. His over possessiveness is really why I had to end it. It was nice at first, made the sex so hot. Eventually though," his voice trailed off.

Stiles shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I hate it when that happens," he lied. He finished off the soda, the sugar rushing in a familiar way through his body. Laying his head he listened as Danny snorted at him.

"What?" Stiles crinkled his nose and jerked his head. "You can totally tell this guy is a douche from his car, talk about over kill."

When Danny's laughter got louder, Stiles just turned and stared at him. "Are you going to let me in on the joke?" He really didn't see what was so funny.

"I can see why Derek likes you," Danny said with a quick grin in Stiles direction. The car started to speed up. "But I can see he left a few things out."

Stiles grew alarmed at the speeds that they were stated to hit. He braced himself, "Slow down man!"

But Danny only started to speed up.

Stiles watched as the roads turned blurry to him. His heart pounding, the whimper that was caught in his throat was starting to turn into a scream. As the houses flew by and dear god the other cars looked like they were standing still! The scream started to rip out of his throat. He was flung to the side as Danny made a right without ever slowing down; the car did some kind of impossibly slid before slowing to a stop in front of a house.

Stiles couldn't stop screaming, a high pitched sound that even he could say wasn't manly at all. The car was stopped, but he felt like his head was still moving.

He felt a hand cover his mouth. "Stiles calm down. We've stopped. It's okay."

The hand that appeared over his mouth made it hard to continue. He stopped screaming and gulped in air, his heart still racing. He refocused on the words, "Okay." His voice raised, "Okay? Nothing is ok right now! I'm in a car with a werewolf, after spending the most gloriously best night I've ever had in my life with another werewolf. I've been shot at with arrows and then had the crap scared out of me with your driving. Not to mention the impromptu escape from the vacation house. All you have to say to me right now is that it's all okay? You need your brain checked."

Stiles stopped yelling and just tried to breathe through all of it, focusing on the shaking of his hands, the feeling of wetness that had gathered in his eyes.

"Feel any better?" Danny asked quietly.

Stiles looked up, blinked and nodded his head, the leaned it back on the head rest, and "Yeah, but I'm going to need some answers real soon. I can't take much more of this."

"Soon. Right now, we have to go play nice with my family." Danny said.

Stiles looked at him, "Why?"

Danny pointed out the window, "Because my mother is standing at the door, staring at us."

Stiles turned to look and saw a beautiful middle aged Hawaiian woman smiling at them. She waved, Stiles, not to be rude, raised his hand back.

"Come on, let's go face the music. My parents are the only one who knows about me being a werewolf, but please don't tell them about the hunter today." Danny took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car.

Sighing, Stiles grabbed his bag and followed. Danny seemed like such a nice guy, when he wasn't behind the wheel. He couldn't help feeling nervous thought, he hated meeting the parents of the few friends he had.

Danny's house was how Stiles felt all ocean side houses should be. Light and airy, but filled with warmth. His mom had clearly kept up with her ancestry because he saw exotic flower prints on all the furniture.

"Mom, this is Stiles." Danny leaned down to hug his mother, then kissing her on the cheek, "We're going to go on a trip with Derek for awhile. I'm going to go grab a bag."

"Are you sure you can't stay for some lunch? I just finished making some cornbread and chili."

Stiles watched in jealously as Danny's mother patted his cheek. It was an old emotion, but one he'd never get over the yearning for his mother's touch. Stiles spoke up, "I could go for some homemade cornbread and chili."

Danny looked at Stiles, smiled and shook his head, "We can't stay, but could you pack us some to go?"

"Of course dear."

Danny left to his right and his mower her stepped down another hallway, leaving Stiles alone in the living room.

Curious he started looking around the room. Seeing a huge wall of photos, he stepped closer. There were tons of photos, almost a profession of history. He saw pictures of Danny when he was younger in Hawaii, then the pictures seemed to tell a difference sort of story. They became sad, as even though Danny grew, he seemed to fade. They left Hawaii when Danny started getting his glow back.

Stiles reached out and touched a picture of Danny and Jackson smiling and happy. Time was skipped and photos of Danny, Jackson and Derek started to appear.

"Are you dating my son?"

Stiles jumped. Danny's mom was a ninja! He turned and looked at hers bit sheepishly, "No I'm ma'am."

She smiled and set a bag down on the table, "Do you race with them then?"

Danny yelled from upstairs, "He's with Derek, mom."

Stiles went red because he wasn't sure that Danny's statement was completely accurate. He didn't know what he was doing with Derek. Or if he should be doing anything with him. It was so nice, before being shot at and seeing a naked Jackson, he had nothing on Derek though. Not that Stiles had firsthand knowledge, he just knew.

"Ah," she came to stand next to Stiles, "My lonely soul." She traced a picture of Derek that had to have been taken without him knowing. He looked younger, in the photo, watching Jackson and Danny toss a ball further in the background.

"He saved my son, did you know that?" She asked.

"No ma'am, I didn't. What happened?" Maybe he could get some answers.

She laid her hand on his forearm, "Danny was born on the big island. Our family was so happy, but then Danny got sick. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia. He had an early diagnosis. It was hard, but we were blessed and he went into remission."

She tugged Stiles over to the sofa and down with her as they sat. "Then my husband's company transferred us here. It was good, until the leukemia came back. Only this time, instead of getting better, the treatments seemed to fail. Poor Jackson, he couldn't understand, didn't seem to want to understand that this happens in life. And then one night, Jackson showed up here at the house with Derek."

Stiles turned to look at Danny who was standing behind them. He took up the story, "My parents had brought my home, hoping that the familiar surrounding would make me feel better. So I laid there while my parents sat on the bed with me and they told us. Derek could make me better. That it would be up to me, but that he needed my parents' permission as well."

He came around and sat on the other side of Stiles, "They didn't believe him at first, but with one smooth transformation, they were believers. We're Hawaiian, you see, mana is life and you respect the kumu pohaku. There was no screaming in fright. There were tears of joy because now I had a chance. Sure I could reject the bite and die, but I could also live."

Stiles was absolutely fascinated by the story. No wonder Danny seemed to be so full of life, he almost lost it.

"What we hadn't told Danny and what Jackson somehow knew, "Danny's mother explained, "Was that we hadn't brought Danny how to rest, we'd brought him home to die in peace and surrounded by love and comfort instead of in a cold hospital."

Danny stood, "Time to go, sorry mom."

Stiles stood and followed them to the front door, trying to digest what he'd just been told. He stood back as Danny hugged his mother. She then turned to him.

He stuck out his hand. "Thank you ma'am," Stiles said, he really didn't know what else to say.

She took his hand and pulled him into a hug, "Call me mom like everyone else does."

Stiles stiffened and pulled back, "Thank you for the offer, but I couldn't. I couldn't call someone else something I barely got to say to her."

Danny's mother seemed to understand, "Alright sweetie, call me Malana. You better get going. Danny never tells me these things but a mother knows when something's wrong. Take care of them for me."

"I'll try," Stiles smiled as he exited the house. And it slipped right off his face as he saw what Danny was standing next too, securing something on the side.

A white and orange crotch rocket. "No,"he whined," I can barely stand on my own two feet and now you want me to get on that death trap!"

"Do you know what the breaking point for Jonathan and I really came? It was when I kicked his as on the track and left him in my dust. Get on the bike, Stiles; you'll be perfectly safe with me."

Stiles frowned and stomped down to the bike, "I hate you all right now, except for your mother." He didn't want to get on the bike, didn't want to be in this situation!

Danny handed him the backpack he'd packed, for Stiles to wear. "You'll love it."

"That's what they all say." he stood and looked at the bike that Danny was sitting on. It rumbled like a giant cat, and Stiles did admire its sleekness. Not that he'd admit. He slung the backpack on, "How do I get on?"

Danny leaned forward, "I'm bracing the bike, so don't worry about it falling getting on. Sling your leg over, just like you would a horse."

"A small terrifyingly fast horse," Stiles muttered, swinging his leg over and then sitting, awkwardly. "Where do I out my hands and my feet?"

"Look down; there are feet spokes that I set out for you. And just hold on to me, we might have to go a little fast."

Stiles clung to Danny like a spider monkey, "I hate you! You better not let me die or I'll come back and haunt you every time you try to have sex, but especially hot angry sex which you seem to like."

He could feel Danny's chest rumble with laughter, "Stiles, let go for a minute, you're going to need to put this on."

Stiles sat up, "WHAT?" He was so through with this day!

Danny held out a helmet.

"Oh." Feeling like an idiot, he put the helmet on and then went right back to squeezing the life out of Danny.

The bike roared and then suddenly they were moving. The wind blew by with the scenery as the bike vibrated underneath. Danny turned down a small forest road and they were out of public view. That's when all hell seemed to break loss.

Going fast in the car was nothing compared to the open throttle on this thing. He just closed his eyes and clung to Danny tighter, hoping that if he paid attention to the sound of Danny's heartbeat, it would reflect in his own and he wouldn't spaz out, flail out and fall off the bike. Thus causing probable instant death.

The only upside to that is that he wouldn't have to deal with this entire mess. Instead he'd be a mess. A bloody messy mess on the road. In the forest were they could easily dispose of his body. Except he didn't think Malana would appreciate her son having anything to do with his death, so maybe they'd tell his dad or at least contact Lydia.

Stiles body froze, Lydia. She was going to murder him! It wasn't even his fault that some crazy chick with an impressive jaw line had shot arrows at him! But he had been the one to invite Derek in and thus meant it was his fault. She'd borrow the bow from that crazy chick and then kill him with that. Maybe he could fix it before she noticed.

Noticed! Ok, he could get away with no one knowing about what happened at the beach house for a few days. No one really knew he was there and he wasn't expected home until next Sunday anyway.

"You can get off now." Danny jostled him backwards.

He blinked and sat up. He hadn't realized that the engine had stopped; the bike made his legs all vibraty and jelly like. Slowly he unclenched his entire body and just relished in the moment of standing on solid, none moving ground.

Stiles breathed deep, a breath of deep, clean, none moving too fast as hell or running for his life air! His stomach rumbled and his hands twitched at the thought of digging into the food Malana had given them.

He looked at the little none friendly shack that Danny had brought them too, glancing to see him roll his bike into a small wooden shed. Stiles started to head for the door when raised voices from inside distracted him.

Raised voices that turned into growls. He crept closer to the door, not wanting to enter, but so very curious.

There was some loud banging, thumping that had Stiles wincing and out tumbled Jackson and Derek, both wolfed out, fighting.

"Don't worry; they do this all the time. They're just playing," Danny said, walking right by the two snarling and swiping at each other. They ignored him like he wasn't even there.

Stiles twitched. And then erupted in a flurry of movement and anger, playing! You think this is time to be playing!" He got in between them and turned to Jackson, "Get out of my sight; I'm going to make a rug out of Derek."

Not waiting to see if Jackson listened, he turned back to sinfully hot man that he'd met only a short time ago, who even though he had pointy teeth, pointy ears and glowing eyes, was still so very attractive, Stiles pushed him backwards with both hands. And just kept pushing, "You," push, "stupidly," shove, "attractive," push, "man!"

Stiles was gasping for breath, he'd only managed to make Derek move back two steps. He glared at the man and then turned to see Jackson who'd fallen on the ground laughing.

"Hello Stiles, I've missed you," Derek said, turning Stiles back around with his fingers and leaning in for a kiss.

Which Stiles jumped back from, "Oh no, no kissing buddy. No kissing or snuggling or nothing until you answer my questions. Understand!"

Stiles stood up straighter at the disbelief on Derek's face. "In fact I'm going inside to eat and I'm not talking to you until I'm finished." With that he turned and stomped towards the house, only pausing to kick Jackson in the leg as he passed him.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If werewolves don't have fluffy tails then why was Jackson naked in the front yard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Two days and two chapters! So I have this entire fic plotted out right now. It'll be about 20 chapters long. Hopefully you'll stick with me until the end. I'm going to attempt to get a chapter a day up. I make no promises! I'll just try. Thank you for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy. (Unbeta'd, sorry)

Stiles walked looked around it was your typical semi modern wooden cabin, one large room plan with two doors that Stiles assumed led to the bathroom and bedrooms. He just walked over to the table and took off the backpack that held the bag of food that Malana packed for them. The containers were still warm, all except for a small one. He popped it open to find butter inside. That woman was quickly becoming his new favorite person.

Looking around for some silverware, he jumped when Danny came out of the back room, "Forks are in the drawer to the left of the fridge."

"Thanks." Stiles grabbed a fork out of the drawer. They could all fend for themselves. Opening the cabinets above, he grabbed a bowl and then went back to the chili. Filling his bowl, he sat and grabbed a piece of cornbread.

Taking his first bite of the chili, he all but swooned. Groaning he dug in for more. Valiantly trying to ignore the fact that Jackson was still laughing outside and that Derek had come in and took up place right behind Stiles' chair. Warm hands hovered over Stiles shoulders.

"Don't even think about it wolf-man. Any closer and I'm not sure what I'll do." Stiles bite into the cornbread. "Danny your mother is a food goddess." He closed his eyes and continued to happily eat.

Danny just hummed in agreement and kept quiet. With that dimply smile on his face, while shooting Derek and Stiles amused glances. Stiles was not impressed, oh no. Danny's mother was a goddess, but Danny was with Derek in the dog house.

He snorted at his own joke and continued to eat.

Luckily for Derek, Stiles was a fast eater. Which was unlucky for Stiles, because as much as he wanted answers... this conversation wasn't going to be a happy one.

Stiles pushed his bowl back and leaned backwards, his head flat against Derek's hard stomach. Rubbing his head a bit Stiles wondered if werewolves were all gorgeous examples of human physiology. Sure, he'd only met three weres, but they were all beautiful. He wondered how many people in Hollywood might be werewolves. Well at least he knew Lydia wasn't one, so it wasn't a condition only partial to the partial hairy, just not partial to Stiles.

Derek's warm hand cradled jaw and neck, his thumb caressing behind Stiles ear. Maybe there were pheromones involved or something. Because he really shouldn't be this attracted to someone he'd only just met.

"Can we talk now?" Derek asked.

Stiles nodded. With all the adrenaline that'd been pumping through his body all day, it was no wonder he was feeling tired and just a little foolish.

"Come on; let's go sit on the couch. Danny get him some juice." Derek's hands ran over Stiles arms as he urged him to stand.

Derek sat first and guided Stiles to sitting next to him, feeling exhausted he gave in and snuggled into Derek. He took a deep breath, feeling a low curl of warmth. Defiantly werewolf pheromones.

"So does Jackson always look so nude in the morning?" Stiles asked.

Jackson, who'd taken up residence in the chair Stiles abandoned, replied, "Yes." He turned the chair around and was eating chili out of the container.

If Jackson ran as hot as Derek did, then he didn't think any of them wore anything when sleeping, "Even when you're standing in someone's front yard?"

Jackson snapped his teeth and glared at Stiles.

"Jackson was attacked by an omega last night," Derek said.

Like that explained anything. "So Jackson was attacked by the last letter of the Greek alphabet?"

"These two often forget, once the secret is out, that those of us not brought up with a wolf have no idea what the new lingo means." Danny said, sitting in the lazy-boy next to the couch.

"I mean, I've watched a few movies, read a few things. So there's a rankings system, Alpha, beta, etc. but what's the difference between fact and fiction?" Stiles asked. "There are so many questions; I can't even begin to consider where to start. I need my paper and a pen."

Stiles started to rise.

"You left your bag at my parent's house," Danny said.

Stiles made a face and poked Derek. "Let's start with you then. When were you bitten?" He felt Derek stiffen as Jackson and Danny averted their gazes. The tension rose in the room. Clearly this was an issue.

"It's ok." Derek smoothed his palms against his jeans in a rough motion, jostling Stiles.

Stiles took a sip of juice as Derek began.

"I wasn't bitten, I was born a werewolf. In the Hale line, you're more likely to be a werewolf rather than human. Or were." Derek said proudly.

"What happened with the fire?" Stiles asked, he'd read the newspaper reports online. Stiles slid his arm around Derek's waist and held him.

"As far as Laura, my older sister, could tell, a hunter encircled our house with wolf's bane and then burned it down. Everyone was inside except for Laura and me. She almost got away with it except that my Uncle Peter got a hold of her and somehow, she was killed too. He managed to get outside where they found him and rushed him to the hospital. The burns killed him eventually."

Stiles tightened his arm around Derek, not liking the calm, rational manner that he spoke. Stiles knew from experience that you had to detach yourself from the hurt and the pain to tell the story. But that it would be there forever. You don't go through something like that and come out unscathed.

"Did they ever find out who the woman was?" Stiles asked as he leaned his cheek once more against Derek's soft cotton covered chest. While it wasn't any different from what he read in the papers it was different sitting here listening to Derek tell it. He added the human element.

"No, as far as the newspapers reported she was a drifter. That could have been wrong; the police might have protected her identity. The newspaper here wasn't that reliable, initially they reported that everyone had perished. Then that only Laura and Uncle Peter had survived. I was kept out of it because of my age." Derek paused and took a sip of Stiles juice, "I was sixteen and I lost almost my entire family."

The entire room when silent. Stiles had gotten some answers to what was going on. There was still more they needed to talk about, Stiles didn't think they had to dwell in the past anymore for now. "So what happened this morning? Was that woman a hunter? Did she have anything to do with your family's death?"

Stiles head rose as Derek took a deep breath, "I'm not sure. Last night Jackson was attacked by another werewolf. He tried to reason with it, but, well, sometimes omegas go feral. I've never seen it happen, but I've heard stories."

"The omega was fine, we'd almost fought to a draw, but then the hunter woman appeared. Blew up the night with some kind of explosive arrow. The omega and I just ran our separate ways. I got lucky and she followed the omega." Jackson said.

Danny stared poking him in shoulder, "Come on, fess up what you did next."

He swatted at Danny and Stiles watched at the dimpled smile never slid off of Danny's face when he pounced onto Jackson like an overgrown puppy. The two wrestled on the floor, bodies rolling and slamming all over the floor like they were twelve.

"Tell them what you did next Jackson or I won't let you up!" Danny commanded ad he held Jackson in a headlock.

Jackson, his face scrunched up between Danny's forearm and bicep managed to grunt out, "I felt bad for it and I tracked after them!"

Danny kissed Jackson with a large smack on the cheek, "You big softy!" He let him go.

Jackson glared at Danny and punched him in the arm, but didn't move from Danny's side.

"You did the right thing Jackson," Derek said.

Jackson's whole demeanor change for a moment, it was clear that Derek's approval meant something to him. Stiles questioned if that was because of the wolf bond or if there was more to it.

"I tracked the omega and her to the beach house. I knew Derek had spent the night there. I was going to warn Derek, but you saw me first." Jackson tilted his head a bit arrogantly. Stiles wanted to tap that perfect little jaw line with his shoe for some reason. It wasn't that he didn't like him, he barely knew him, there was just something about that look.

Stiles burst out, "But that still doesn't explain why you were naked! I saw Danny do his wolf face thing and he didn't ruin anything? Were you like, full wolf or something?" Stiles tried to imagine them as wolves, but all he could picture was cute little puppies.

Danny started laughed, rolling on the floor while Jackson just looked up and away.

"Danny and Jackson are both betas, what you saw Danny do is their only form. We don't become full wolves," Derek looked down at Stiles and his eyes went red, "I am the Alpha. I turn into a larger wolf type man. There are no full werewolf transformation, sorry to disappoint you."

"Jackson got spanked," Danny spit out between laughs.

Jackson huffed, "It's not funny! I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd go for a run on the beach. I only had shorts on. And when I got into the fight, they were torn off. It was really strong."

"It's ok Jackson. Don't worry. From what you described it was more wolf than human. They tend to fight more on instinct, which makes them faster and more aggressive." Derek turned on some kind of teacher mode on, "It was also the reason that you couldn't identify what gender it was."

Stiles shifted, that tone ran through Stiles body. Maybe he could get Derek to lecture him some more later, in private.

"So why have Danny pick me up? Why would the hunter come after me? Why didn't she attack you we left?" Stiles questioned. It was all so confusing, "And you have no idea who she is?" Stiles had never wanted to pick apart a puzzle more in his life. It was like the best video game he'd ever played rolled into some kind of stupid rom com movie that Lydia made him watch.

"After I left, I followed the omega's trail. I think it lost the hunter, but by that time, it seemed the hunter was doubling back, so I called Danny to go pick you up. I'm glad I did, who knows what she would have done." Derek put his arm around Stiles and hugged him close. "I don't know what she would have done to you, if anything, but I wasn't going to take that chance."

"So what do we do now?" Stiles asked. He was sure his face was beet red. "I mean, Lydia's beach house has been shot at, we're in hiding all the while there's a rogue wolf out attacking people and a hunter hunting it and you guys it seems. And you all have no clue about either of them. Is there anyone you can think that might have any information? Come on, don't you people have any kind of information network or something?" Stiles thrived on finding the answers to his questions and then having new questions pop up. It was one of the reasons he loved his job. That and most breakthroughs expanded the life span for someone.

"All right!" Stiles slapped Derek's leg for punctuation. "What at going to do about all of this?" He looked to Derek.

"We'll find the omega and put it down. If the hunter puts it down first, then that's that. Hopefully she'll leave. If she doesn't, then we'll put her down too." Derek's voice was flat and hard. Stiles didn't like it.

Also, that didn't sound like a plan. "So how do you plan to do this? You can't just wait around the forest hoping to run into them."

Danny spoke up from the floor, "Jackson and I can do a sweep of the town and see if we can pick up her scent."

"What about the shop, should we open it tomorrow?" Jackson slide down and was using Danny's leg for a pillow. "We have that tranny job to finish, about ten oil changes and Ronny wants us to install his new exhaust system. And you know we'll get a few calls while we're open."

"Until we figure out who the hunter is and see if we can find the omega, no one goes anywhere alone. Jackson and Danny, you can scout the town. I'll finish up the tranny job. I'll see about calling the customers and rescheduling their oil changes. And Ronny can just wait." Derek slouched into the sofa as he talked his hand over his eyes.

"Can you do some kind of mobile offer in exchange? So they won't get mad, you'll go to them maybe?" Stiles hated having to take his baby in, it was time consuming.

"We could do that or offer them a discount. We'll tell them it's an emergency. They're all locals, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"You know if you find the hunter you should try to get her license plate. My dad was the sheriff; I might be able to have one of the deputy's that worked with him run the plates." Stiles said.

"Or I could just hack into the police stations network here and run them," Danny said.

Stiles just looked at him, "You can do that?"

Danny picked at the floor, "It's not something I advertise. Or do often."

Stiles thought this might be a good time to ask Derek a few more delicate questions. Looking at his stubbly exterior Stiles asked, "Do you know anyone that might be able to help us?"

Derek was silent, his fingers running over his jaw, "Maybe. He's not too fond of me, Jackson and Danny will have to go talk with him." He looked down at Stiles, a slight grin on his face, "There are some books and journals the survived the fire. Do you want to help me with them tomorrow?

It was like the man knew exactly what buttons to push to make Stiles a giddy, giggling little school girl over him. He felt his face crack open into the widest grin. He didn't know how many this man had made him smile these past two days. Stiles nodded his head violently up and down.

Derek chuckled and from the looks that Jackson and Danny shot each other, Stiles took that to mean Derek didn't do that very much. He hoped to be able to make him smile a little.

"Danny, Jackson, will you run the perimeter? We'll watch in shifts tonight, Jackson, you'll have first shift, Danny second and I'll get the morning shift." He nodded to them.

Stiles watched as Danny and Jackson headed outside into the night. He flung his arm high, hooking it over the couch. He kicked off his shoes, moving one foot under his leg and the over Derek's legs. After all the running and the driving he felt so tired. His eyes narrow as he watched Derek watching him. "We still have so much more to talk about. I have so much I want to ask you about werewolves and all things supernatural. But there's also the topic of us."

"Us," Something slide over Derek's face, Stiles couldn't tell what emotion it was, had happened too fast.

Derek right now was different from the man he'd met. This Derek, while knowing more about him, was more closed off. Stiles reached out for his hand, entwining his smooth palm with Derek's rough. They were opposites in many ways, Stiles wanted to see if they were alike in any. To do that he would have to make the decision on where this was all going with Derek.

But first, with the exception of Lydia, he had to not be hunted by chicks with bows and pointy things.

Derek stood and tugged his hand for Stiles to follow.

"I was comfortable," he pouted.

"Let's go get you something to change into for the night. Do you," Derek paused as he looked down at Stiles who stood and leaned onto him, "do you want to sleep with me again tonight? Like last night, nothing more."

Stiles let go of Derek's hand and slide them around his waist, stepping into Derek's arms. "I did sleep well last night. And it would be safer if I was being protected by the big bad wolf. He grinned cheekily.

Derek rolled his eyes, "Not funny."

Stiles pushed him, bouncing off slightly, "Oh I'm hysterical. You just don't have a great sense of humor."

Derek started walking backwards towards the bedroom door, pulling Stiles with him, "I said yes to dinner with you didn't I? That proves I have an enormous sense of humor."

"HEY!" Stiles shouted, his mouth hanging open.

Derek hit the door, his eyes intense as he stared down into Stiles eyes, then sliding to his mouth, his face getting a hungry look on it.

Stiles licked his lips.

Derek bent forward and fit his lips over Stiles, sucking softly on his bottom lip. Stiles ran his hands up and over into Derek's hair, gripping what he could to pull the taller man closer. He tilted Derek's head with his hands and deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue against Derek's.

In a swift move, Derek switched their positions, Stiles let out a muffled moan of surprise as his back hit the door. He squirmed, pulling at Derek to come closer and laughed into the kiss.


	7. Chapter Sever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day later than I wanted to post, but it's cool. I'm at half days now with summer camp. Hopefully I can make this work while working and having a life. Enjoy! Thanks for the many reviews, really you guys are awesome. Not beta'd sorry.

Something tickled at Stiles neck. He ignored it, curling into the warm covers. A warm pressure pushed him down further into the blankets. He murmured with pleasure. It was when soft kissing were started being pressed into his neck did Stiles consider that waking up might be a good idea.

Waking up was defiantly a good idea, Stiles thought as Derek's knee pressed against Stiles morning wood. He arched into Derek's body while trying to unpin his arms from beneath the blankets. "Nuuhh, Derek!" He whined.

Derek huffed against Stiles neck then bite it softly.

Stiles wiggled some more and finally was able to get an arm free when the wonderfulness was suddenly taken away. Stiles whined and made grabby hands for Derek, who stood smirking down at him, completely clothed.

"Get up, get dressed and I'll get you some breakfast. I have to open the shop for the day." Derek lorded above Stiles like he was his boss or something.

Stiles ignored him by closing his eyes and burying his face into the blankets, feinting sleep.

Derek, the bastard, ripped the bed covers off in one swift move. Stiles simply rolled onto his back and crossed his arms, while pouting at the man. He knew he had to get up, but it was a little fun playing with the guy. And he kinda wished he could've woken up like he did yesterday and stayed in bed.

Derek must have sensed it because he gave Stiles a small smile and crawled into bed, crawling on top of Stiles, trapping him beneath his body. "Good Morning Stiles."

He had to admit, he loved when Derek said his name. It sent shivers down his spine, "Good Morning. Can't we just stay here for a little while?" He wrapped his arms around Derek, entwining their legs together. "Just for a little bit?" Stiles broke out the big dogs, leaned forward and kissed Derek's softly, "Please?"

Derek groaned and buried his head once more into Stiles neck. He shifted his body and pressed a hard thigh up between Stiles legs.

Stiles body lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July as he scrambled for more, more friction, more of Derek's weight on his body, more movement, just more. Derek's breath tickled his neck as his tongue licked up to his ear. Stiles eyes rolled as Derek started to nibble on his ear lobe. He never knew it was that sensitive.

As Derek assaulted his body, all Stiles could do was scratched down Derek's back, hook a leg around and hold on while Derek's rocked into him. All the while making embarrassing noises.

Derek's hand spread wide and slowly started running down stiles side before slipping under the shirt Derek lent him. Derek nipped on Stiles ear before heading back down, sucking and making a meal of his neck.

Derek's hand switched direction and run his fingertips under his boxer band. Stiles lift his hip; Derek's hand slid down and caressed his butt.

Before pinching him hard and almost flying out of the bed.

Stills roared, "Hey! He looked Derek's rugged stupid face while his body felt like it was on fire

"Get dressed, we need to head out," Derek said, trying to look calm, but failing.

Stiles could get he wanted to crawl back into the bed just as much as stiles wanted him too.

Stiles sat up, "Do I have time for a cold shower?" He didn't bother to hide his erection from view. He'd never felt this level of intimacy with any of his past lovers. If he moved past the blue balls he had, the situations was comfortable.

Derek shook his head; he just crossed his arms and motioned for Stiles to get on with it. He backed up and leaned against the wall to wait.

Grumbling, Stiles pulled on the outfit he had on yesterday. "Happy?" he asked, throwing his hands in the air and then ending up on his hips. His erection wasn't going down anytime soon.

Derek just turned and held the door open for Stiles.

In the bedroom with Derek he had felt confident, but once he walked into the living room slash kitchen area where Jackson and Danny were, it was like he reverted to about sixteen. When he'd been all clumsy and awkward.

Jackson sniffed the air, glared at Stiles and threw the knife in his hand down in disgust. He grabbed his sandwich and walked outside shaking his head. Danny got up and followed, but not before slapping Stiles on the shoulder. "Good job, but you two reek. Derek, we're off to hunt the hunter."

"Don't forget to call every hour," Derek said as he started making slapping peanut butter on some bread. He motioned to an already made sandwich on the table, "you can eat that. Sorry we don't have much here. We'll order something for lunch."

Stile sniffed himself, he didn't smell that bad. Sure he could use a little deodorant, but it wasn't that bad. Besides it wasn't like he had any or even a toothbrush. Jackson was just a dick. Derek didn't mind if what they were doing five minutes ago was any indication. "I don't smell that bad do I?"

Derek looked up, "He wasn't talking about your body odor, he was referring to the lust he can smell off of you and me."

Stiles eyes got wide, "He can smell that? And Danny, which means you can too and oh is this one of your werewolf super powers? And how could he tell it was, you know." Stiles went and grabbed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Derek had pointed too.

"Werewolves have an acute sense of smell and heightened hearing. There are different smells for emotions, people, and places." Stiles watched as professor Derek came out again. "We can even tell when a person is lying. Your heartbeat increases, you pump out a certain combination of chemicals."

Stiles chewed on his sandwich, fascinated with the science behind the supernatural. That and was glad that Derek hadn't been one of his professors in college. He got even hotter when he was lecturing.

"Like right now, you just experienced a spike of arousal," Derek informed Stiles with a smug look on his face. He bit into his sandwich and started cleaning up.

Stiles had a sudden thought. "So the day we met..." Stiles was a bit embarrassed and just a little bit offended. "And then at your shop! That's like, cheating, you cheater!" Stiles bit into his sandwich again, it wasn't fair that Derek was so good looking AND had a clue into what Stiles was thinking and feeling. Even if it had worked to his advantage.

He sulked and watched Derek finish off his sandwich while he was still working on his own.

"Let's go," Derek led him outside and went off into the shed they used as a garage. He rolled out the large chrome motorcycle he'd seen him working on in the shop.

Stiles finished his sandwich and reluctantly got on the back of Derek's bike. At least this time he got to hold onto Derek for dear life.

If he thought Danny's bike roared, it was like comparing a house cat to a tiger. Stiles felt his bones rattling with the engine.

He laid his helmeted head against Derek's back and watched the scenery go by this time. Derek wasn't going anywhere near as fast as Danny had, maybe because it was a different type of bike. And maybe because despite those dimples, Danny was clearly sadistic.

In no time at all they were pulling up to Derek's garage. He pulled around back and let himself in the back door, while Stiles shakily stood next to the bike. He tried to image driving it himself but he didn't think he could do it.

Derek raised the metal bay door and motioned for Stiles.

Thankfully his body had stopped rattling so he walked over to Derek, "Is there anything I can do to help?

"Not really," Derek started for a closed office area. "I need to do a few things, change the answer machine, call people and try to get them to reschedule."

They stepped into the office; Stiles took the seat across the desk from Derek and watched him organize paperwork around. "We always keep a change of clothes here, upstairs in the changing room. There's a shower you can use, and some clothes to change into while I get some of this out of the way. Danny is going to bring hour bag around soon. I'll show you where I keep the books locked up."

Derek looked up, "I know this isn't what you were expecting, that I wasn't... That I dragged you into this." His eyes lowered and he growled out, "I'm sorry."

Stiles stood up fast and made for Derek, smacking hard into the desk instead. He winced, that was going to leave a make. Standing next to Derek he laid his hand on one of Derek's and smiled, "Come on wolf-man, don't go soft on me now."

Derek's rolled his eyes and physically turned Stiles around, pushing him out of the office towards a concrete staircase , "Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is."

***********************

After showering and changing into some of Derek's clothes, Stiles felt a little more awake. He couldn't understand what he couldn't borrow some of Jackson's clothes however, they would fit him better. Derek had just growled at that suggested and thrust the pile of clothes into his hands. Even the boxers were a little large.

Heading down stairs into the shop, Stiles inhaled the sweetest smell, coffee. Following his nose he went straight to the coffee pot that was off to the side near a fridge and a sink, he scrounged up a mug and poured himself a cup.

"There's cream in the fridge and sugar on the counter," Derek called out from under the hood of a car that had been in the shop when they'd pulled in this morning. "Your bag, the books and some pastries from mom are in the office."

Stiles walked towards the office, admiring the roundness of Derek's butt peeking out. His hand twitched as he got closer. Smirking, he brought it backwards in the air.

"Don't even think about it," Stiles looked down to see Derek's eyes flash red. Sniffing, he raised his head and continued on to the office. He'd get him back for that pinch this morning.

Settling in Derek's seat saw that the papers had been moved aside for him, books in a box by his feet and the company computer to his right. Satisfied that he had enough room, he set up his laptop, pulled the Ethernet cord from the computer and plugged it into his laptop. With any luck, he wouldn't need a password or anything.

Seeing the Internet light start blinking, Stiles pulled out his legal pad, set it aside and started or the books.

The books were old and musty, also smelling faintly, of fire. It was a small selection; Stiles leafed through some of them, trying to set them in some order. All of them were hand written. Three looked to be personal journals. He picked the newest looking book and started there. That, in theory, should hold the most current information.

Satisfied, he sat back in the chair, opened up the container of pastries that Malana sent for them, grabbed one and got to work.

As it usual happens when Stiles got engrossed in his work, he lost complete track of time.

It wasn't until Derek twisted the office chair around, making Stiles' feet to fall off the small safe he'd been propping them up on and turn around to face the desk the right way did he realize how long he'd been sitting there reading and taking notes.

The book he picked first wasn't just a book, it was a journal written by Laura, Derek's sister. She had Ben groomed to be the next alpha and had started keeping a journal of the lessons she started receiving.

The thoughts in the book weren't complete or organized. She was still a teenager when she started this, so there was also daily activities peppered throughout the journal.

"Hi," Stiles said as he looked over a dirty Derek. "You finished all the car stuff? The rugged working man aspect was completely delicious. There was the cutest blob of something near his jaw. Stiles just wanted to rub himself up against the man.

Derek's kicked his chair, "Stop that." He leaned against the desk. "I've just got a call from Jackson and Danny, the hunter is staying at the mermaid's shell. It's a motel near the east side of the boardwalk.

"Did they get a name? Stiles asked, sitting up and looking for more pastries, frowning when he realized they were gone and he was hungry.

"Jane Silver, but it's probably fake. The mermaid's shell hotel is on the shady side of town." Derek crossed his arms.

"Did they find out if she has a car? Those aren't easy to get with fake names." Stiles tapped his mouth with his pen. Silver rang a bell.

"They're watching for her to either come back or leave. When they followed the trail to the motel room, she wasn't there. They'll give us a call when they've got something." Derek pulled out small rolodex and started flipping through the numbers.

Stiles pulled a face, "Why the heck are you still using that! That's a piece of ancient technology right there."

Derek frowned and pulled out a card, "It was my parents."

Stiles winced; well he had just stuck his foot into his mouth. He flipped through some of his notes, making marks to try and arrange them for when he typed them up later. "Laura wrote something odd, Beware the Silvers. Do you have any idea what that means? I mean, cute on the huntress there being all cryptic on her name, not. But the way that she wrote it, the Silvers, capital S. It's just odd. Maybe it's just me; she was using a purple sparkly pen at the time. Maybe she just meant beware of silver in general."

"We're not affected by silver, its myth, not fact," Derek said looking at the book. He picked it up and sniffed it. "I...After the fire and then after Laura...when these books were given to me. Well that was a hard time in my life. I couldn't bring myself to read the ones written by Laura or my parents." It was clearly something that still affected him.

Something struck Stiles, "But in all the legends, werewolves are always killed by silver. It's like a thing." Stiles paused and played with his lip. Legends got confused

Derek's cell rang and he moved out of the office to answer it.

History was like the greatest game of whisper down the alley ever played. Even with the recent advances in technology where you can capture history as it occurs, the views are still interpretive.

Stiles looked up as Derek walked back into the room, "Is it possible that "silver" is a family name? A family of hunters?"

Derek shrugged, "Could be. That was Danny on the phone. The hunter walked back to her and none of the cars in the lot smell like her. They're getting a bit impatient, so I'm sending them to talk to my contact."

Stiles stomach decided to speak up for him.

Derek smiled softly, "How about I order some food? I'll have it delivered and then I'll start with some of the other books." He tapped on the desk, his fingers walking along the edge.

"Why sir are you offering to buy me dinner?" Stiles fluttered his eyes outrageously.

"Gotta feed you or you won't put out." Derek said, straight faced.

"Hey," Stiles swatted at his hand, "That's true, but you don't have to say it!"

Derek held up his cell phone, "Pizza with loaded toppings okay?"

Stiles thought about all the carbs he'd eaten earlier, "Sure, but can you get me a house salad with Italian dressing on the side?"

Derek's nodded, "Sure, I'm just going to go clean up while we wait."

Stiles waved him off, already picking up the next book and starting on it. He decided to go old school and start with the oldest book this time.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being shot at, running for his life, hanging on for his life while riding on a death trap of a motorcycle, all Stiles wants to do is curl under his sheets. Dinner, some rest and relaxation is in order. And then getting Derek to spill more beans about this whole werewolf situation he's found himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! So I just wanted to let everyone know that this story is now being beta'd by AO3's akissforabite! I'm so glad to have met her, she's just so awesome. ^_^ I also want to say thank you to everyone who reads. Enjoy! Review please, it's really nice to hear from you.

Stiles stretched, feeling relief as he heard and felt his back and his neck pop. It was still light outside, even though it was almost eight at night. Stiles had tons of notes that he needed to feed into his computer and cross reference. Then he needed to talk to Derek about what he read.

He ran a hand over his face. They were going to go back to the safe house tonight, per Derek's order. As much as Stiles liked Derek, the blatant assumption that he'd do whatever Derek said didn't sit too well with him. He understood that there were "things" going on, but that didn't mean he was going to roll over because Alpha wolf man Hale said so.

"Everything is locked up here, are you ready to go." Derek asked as he stood in the doorway of the office, helmets in hand.

Stiles sighed and stood, picking up his bag. "Sure, let's go."

"Are you alright?" Derek stood his ground in the doorway as Stiles got closer.

He didn't know how to answer that. He was physically fine, but emotionally he was a bit of a mess. "Just a long day," was what he replied. If there was anything he was good at, it was avoiding striving details when answering questions.

Stiles saw, out of the corner of his eye, Derek's hand come up, pause and then tentatively reach out for him. Hs heart clenched and his body jerked toward Derek's hand.

He stepped even closer when he saw Derek visibly relax. "Come on; take me on your death machine." He was such a sucker for a pretty face!

Derek's mouth twitched and he pulled Stiles closer, maneuvering him out the door.

Getting on the bike was a lot easier than it had been yesterday. He wrapped his arms around him and they were off, down the road back to the cabin.

Each time he was on the bikes, it became less scary for Stiles. He opened his eyes and watched the houses fly by and then, watched as street became forest. The trees and foliage blurred. Stiles relaxed his hold on Derek, letting his hands lay flat against his amble chest. He used this time to explore Derek's body, running his hands down to hard thighs that gripped the machine they sat on.

Stiles' breath came quicker and he shifted forward on the seat. He was hard, half due to the vibrations on the bike and the rest to do with his exploration of Derek.

They pulled into the small clearing in front of the cabin. Derek shut off the bike, put the stand out, leapt off the bike and hauled Stiles off right after, slamming their bodies together as he kissed him hungrily.

Stiles pulled back and smiled at him, right as he felt a tearing pain in his side as he was flung away into the brush like a rag doll.

From where Stiles lay, he could make out blurry shapes beating into each other. He tried to move, but the pain in his side made him cry out instead. He grabbed at his waist, feeling his shirt starting to soak with something warm, wet and slightly sticky. He knew it was blood.

Holding his breath, Stiles tried to stand again, this time succeeding. Heavily stumbling around, he got closer to the clearing, so he could see what was going on.

A body went flying past him. It was the omega, wolfed out. Its clothes were nothing but rags; its hair was long, tangled in with the clothing. Stiles couldn't make out its gender. Or even what its facial structure looked like.

Stiles blinked; something wet was in his eyes. His hand shaking, he wiped his forehead and looked down at his fingers. Blood.

There was nothing he could do as he watched the two bodies fly at each other. He shuddered in horror at the impact. The two grappled before flying apart and Stiles got his first look at how Derek looked like as a werewolf. From his readings he knew this much: it could only be his beta form.

Stiles tried to bury his fear, but he was helpless as he slid down the tree he'd used as an anchor instead. Fear was the mind killer indeed. He watched Derek's claws dig into the ground to slow his momentum, and then use it to spring back towards the omega.

They clashed again, only this time Derek seemed to get the upper hand and was able to toss the omega back. Stiles watched as it crumbled rolling on the ground, seemingly broken. Something snapped and it got back up, snarling.

Derek heaved and Stiles thought his ears were going to burst from the sound of the roar that came out of his heavily fanged mouth.

The omega shuddered and collapsed to the ground in a filthy heap. Derek stumbled, kneeling down to check it. He raised a clawed hand.

"Derek," Stiles called. He was light headed and needed help. He also wanted to know what Derek had done to the omega with that one roar.

Derek abandoned the omega instantly, comings to Stiles' side.

"You're hurt." Derek reached for Stiles.

He couldn't help it, couldn't help flinching back from the razor sharp talons that had come at him.

Derek's whole face dropped in one instant, pain flashed over his face only to have a stoic facade slam up in its place. He turned and went back to the omega.

Stiles raised his hand to Derek's back, but it was too late. He knew that he'd damaged something precious in Derek. He only hoped it wasn't destroyed. Getting slowly to his knees, Stiles braced himself to stand.

A loud roar broke through the silence of the night, causing Stiles to huddle against the tree as his body trembled with the sound. It trailed with an anguished whimper. He looked up and saw Derek pawing at the ground near the omega and he could hear the labored breathing of someone choking back sobs.

"Derek?" He made his way carefully towards them, holding pressure on his side. Derek moved closer to the omega, gently touching the body, moving the mangled hair out of its face.

He got close, moving carefully. Stiles made sure that Derek could see him getting closer; he didn't want to spook the already distraught man. He could see that the omega was a woman. A much bruised, filthy woman. "Derek, who is she?"

Derek looked up at Stiles, his eyes red, but not from his wolf, from the tears that were pouring down his face. "I don't understand," his voice thick with grief. "Her scent is almost completely changed, but it's my sister. It's Laura." He bowed his head and rubbed his cheek against hers, whimpering mournfully.

Stiles stared down; he didn't understand how that was possible. Everything he'd read suggested that it wasn't. "I don't understand," Stiles began, straightening his body up. Pain flared from his side and he doubled over in pain. He'd forgotten about his injuries for a second.

He struggled and got himself back under control. Moving closer, he gasped when Derek reached out a hand and pulled him closer. Weakly, he complied, letting Derek lay his head on his legs, "Derek, what did you do to her?"

Derek rubbed his face into the fabric that covered Stiles' thigh, "It's because I'm the alpha." He slumped against Stiles.

Stiles stood there, hurt, bleeding and reached out to card through Derek's hair with his free hand. He stopped and reached into this pants' pocket for his phone and then dialed.

Phone ringing, he held it to his ear and waited.

The other side clicked, "Stiles! What's going on? Having fun on your vaca man?"

"Scott, I need you to come up here." He sighed wearily, "I can't explain why I can't go to the hospital, but I might need stitches and I have a...friend who is in a real bad way."

"Stiles, of course, but you know I'm studying to be a vet. Are you sure you can't go to the hospital?"

The silence hung over the phone for a moment, "Bring whatever you can, Scott. It's important."

"Okay. You're lucky I'm at my job now; the doc had some kind of friends stop by and called me in. I'll pack a case up. Send me directions. I'll try and be there as soon as I can." There was a pause, "Will you be alright for a few hours?"

Stiles titled his head back in relief, "Yes, we'll be fine until you get here. I'll see you soon. Thanks." The line went dead. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket. The cavalry was on its way.

Stiles dug his hands into Derek's hair one more time, before tugging on it. Getting no response, he pulled harder onto Derek's hair. "Get up. You can go into shock later, but right now we both need your help." He pulled Derek's head back and looked down into sad green eyes. "I need you."

Derek nodded. He let go of Stiles, leaned down and took Laura in his arms. He lifted her with ease and Stiles could see that she was skin and bones. If he didn't have the gash in his side, he probably could have carried her like that.

Putting one foot in front of the other he followed Derek into the cabin. "How long will she stay out for?"

"I don't know. Her pulse is slow and I can smell a ton of medicine in her blood." Derek placed her on the sofa carefully.

"Will she be fine long enough for you to help me get cleaned up? Then I can help you with her while we wait for Scott to get here."

Derek brushed the hair off of Laura's cheek, "Who's Scott? And why is he coming?"

"He's my best friend. And he's studying to be a vet." Stiles wondered what was going on with Derek. Hadn't he been paying attention when he made the call a few minutes ago?

Derek turned and looked at him; his face pinched and narrowed, "We're not animals!" He punctured the accusation with a low growl, his eyes glowing red.

Stiles held his hand out, waving his blood covered fingers, "I know that but we can't go to the hospital, and I have scars from where he's stitched me up before. I trust him with my life." He took a step closer, "Please Derek, trust me. Let me help you and Laura."

Derek turned away from Stiles and sunk his head onto Laura's chest. He closed his eyes and Stiles watched him breath in time with his long thought dead sister. "Alright." Derek said after a while.

Stiles nodded and started taking off his shirt. It might be best to do it here, where Derek could keep an eye on Laura as he helped Stiles. He struggled to get his shirt off, but the wound on his side made it hard for him to raise that arm. The shirt got caught on his neck.

A large hand caught his and stilled him. Derek eased his shirt off and threw it on the table. Stiles looked down and saw his wound fully for the first time. Three jagged lines ran across his rib cage, blood oozing out of them. He seemed to have torn one of them open; it was bleeding more freely than the others.

Derek ran hot water in the sink, "Come here and let me clean you up." He held a towel in his hands, his face stoic, but Stiles could see the tense way he held himself.

Stiles didn't hesitate to walk around the kitchen table to him, to place himself almost directly in Derek's care. He laid his hand on Derek's waist, "Get on with it." He moved his arm and exposed his wounded self completely to Derek.

Derek's jaw unclenched. Holding the towel under the hot water he started to clean the blood off gently.

It hurt like a bitch. Stiles gripped Derek's waist hard every time the pain spiked. He bit his lip every time the towel got close to one of the wounds.

"I'm sorry," Derek said quietly as he worked.

Stiles laid his forehead against Derek's shoulder, "It wasn't your fault."

"She is my sister."

As if that simultaneously explained everything. Like Derek should obviously be held accountable for the actions of others. Stiles pressed his lips together. That would be a conversation for another time, like most of their conversations had to be right now.

Stiles let Derek tape gauze over the wounds. They all looked like they needed stitches, but the best they could do now was to tape them shut and cover it with gauze.

Stiles didn't even bother with trying to put a shirt on as he looked at the body lying on the couch. They needed to get her clean, which meant they were going to get wet. He started filling the sink up with warm water, "Derek, get a blanket and put it on the kitchen table. We'll put her on there while we clean her up, it'll be easier."

When she was on the table, Stiles took a moment to really examine Laura. She was wearing a hospital-like gown; which was so torn and ragged she might as well not been wearing anything. Some kind of torn canvas tarp was secured around her neck and under an arm. She must have used it for what little warmth she could get out of it. Laura's legs and arms were caked with mud and leaves; like she'd rolled in them and her hair was matted and tangled, somehow entwined with the canvas cape she wore.

Stiles ran his hands over his face, "We should just cut everything off of her and then put her in the shower...or hose her down outside to get most of it off. It might just be easier." He bit his lip, "I'm sorry about all of this."

Derek is pale, his eyes still bloodshot. He seemed to curl in on himself, seeming smaller than earlier, when he'd been sure of the world. Stiles wanted to wrap him up in the bed they'd shared last night and just hold him.

Derek shook his head and walked to a drawer, pulling out scissors. "Let's get this over and done with." He placed his hand gently on Laura's shoulder, before he moved her head to the side to cut off the cape.

Stiles grabbed the fabric in his hands as he pulled it away from Laura's body and took the dirty bundle, dumping it outside.

When he came back he saw Derek carefully cutting the hair where the canvas had gotten entangled, "Laura would never forgive me if I just chopped all her hair off."

Stiles reached out for the tangled mess, pulling it back and up, "We'll soak it in conditioner, maybe that'll help." He used a wet towel to wash off her face, getting mud out of her ears and off her neck.

It didn't take long to cut the rest of the mess away. She was skin and bones, her whole body sunken in a way he'd only seen in old pictures. Thinking that way made it easier somehow to detach himself from the fact that this body was Derek's older sister and he was technically seeing her naked. Critically, he looked her over and wondered how someone could have come to be like this.

Seeing that Derek was finished, Stiles went into the bathroom first, putting the water on, making sure it wasn't too hot. He filled the tub some, but turned the shower on. The spray would help.

Derek walked into the small room in his boxers, with Laura in his arms and Stiles gagged as he caught a whiff of Laura's strong body odor. "Hurry and put her in the tub."

He stepped into the tub, while Stiles angled the showerhead to spray mostly on Laura. The water in the tub quickly turned dark with dirt and leaves. They ended up filling and draining the tub three times before it was clean enough for Derek to sit and hold Laura up so that Stiles could work on her hair.

He tried, he really tried. "Derek, we're going to have to cut her hair." He tried to gently separate the mass, to no avail.

"No." Derek said, as if that was the finale word.

"Derek, you don't understand," Stiles shifted a clump, exposing a red oozing wound, "…her hair is pulling at her scalp, and it's going to have to be cut off. So we can treat it and it can heal without the mass pulling at it more."

Derek just looked up into Stiles eyes, "Okay."

Stiles shivered, not from the fact that he was wet, but from the shear absence of emotion on Derek's face. He stood and went back into the kitchen for the scissors and also grabbed a plastic bag from some connivance store that was on the kitchen counter

He stopped in the bathroom's doorway to watch the scene that greeted him. Derek's forehead lay against Laura's, his eyes closed as he whispered. Whatever it was, it was spoken too low for him to hear, but it made his heart clench. Derek held her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him and Stiles could only guess that maybe she was. He didn't know how close they'd been, but this was a member of Derek's family seemly back from the dead.

Trying not to disturb them, Stiles crept over to the side of the tub and started cutting the tangled hair. He tried to leave some length, hoping that if it were shorter, the almost dreaded hair would detail better. Steadily, he worked, putting the cut hair into the plastic bag for an easier clean up. His skin crawled at the wet hair stuck to his hands. He was going to have to shower after this was finished. It wasn't that he was dirty; it was that Laura had been so dirty it made Stiles' skin crawl in return. He didn't understand how someone could get this far-gone. Soaping up shampoo in his hands, he massaged it into the ends, trying not to dig into her scalp. Finally he pulled away. "Let's get her rinsed and then into one of the beds to wait for Scott." Stiles stood and stepped back, waiting for Derek to stand also. Once again he was impressed by the shear strength of the other man. He stood up, Laura still in his arms and made it seem effortless.

Exhausted and sore, he made short work of spraying them down. The water was losing its warmth and Stiles didn't want Laura to feel any more discomfort. The small fragile woman in Derek's arms made him feel protective in a way that he hadn't since he was in high school with Lydia.

Moving slowly as to not bother the wounds that had started to seep through the gauze, Stiles carefully dried Laura off with a towel, patting her now shorn head dry and got out of the way, letting Derek carry her to the bedroom.

Figuring that he didn't need to help dress his sister, Stiles started cleaning up the bathroom. There was water and mud everywhere. He knew he should just leave it for the morning, but it would dry by then and be harder to clean.

Stiles turned the shower on, wishing he could step under its spray, but knowing that there was more yet to get done before he could stop for tonight. He bundled the dirtiest towels together, using the cleanest one to mop up the water on the floor.

He heard his phone ring and instinctively tried to pop up to get it but he ended up curling back on the floor as he pulled his wounds some.

"Hello?"

Stiles heard Derek answer his phone.

"I'm sorry he's indisposed right now. Oh, um." Derek appeared in the bathroom, Stiles' cell in his hand. "It's Lydia."

"Tell her I'll call her back tomorrow," Stiles said, before groaning pitifully trying to stand back up.

Derek held his hand out to help Stiles up, "Sorry," he said. "Oh. Okay. No!" Derek looked flustered as he looked at the phone.

Stiles leaned against Derek, "What'd she say?" He knew Lydia.

"She… um, she thought we were having sex in the shower. Or about to." Derek's face was comically wide.

Stiles couldn't help it. After everything that had happened with Derek today, he was worried about his virtue? He burst out laughing, regretting doing so as the pain started again but he couldn't stop.


End file.
